CIA VII: When the Midnight Hour Comes
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: Part seven of my CIA series. The tables have turned for Tim and Levi Carew. For the first time, Levi is not the one in control. Tim is. And the reason is not what anyone on the NCIS team would have expected...or wanted. Tim is featured, but the entire team is present and accounted for. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Yes, this is part seven of my CIA series. Almost as soon as I'd finished the last one, I had an idea for the next one. Will there be another after this one? Honestly, I don't know. Right now, I don't have any particular idea, but it's always possible. This series is so involved that it's almost impossible to explain it succinctly. Suffice it to say that this is an AU series that split off from the actual series in season 4/5. It has Tim's hacking of the CIA as the catalyst, and Tim has gone through Hell and managed to climb back out again after everything he's had to endure. This series, if you're not familiar with it, is very much Tim-focused, but the team is there and important. Because I started it in season 4/5, Jenny Shepard is still the director. Ziva is there, and while Ellie Bishop has recently been seen in a bit part, she is not part of NCIS. While this is a very long series, I have to admit that it's one of my favorites.

 **A/N2:** The quote from which the title comes is one that I've actually used in another story. Anyone recognize it? :D

 **Disclaimer:** I do lay claim to Levi Carew, my OC. He is my favorite OC, and so he's mine. However, I'm not making money from this and I do not claim NCIS (even if I think I'm better at keeping the characters in character than the writers are on occasion. :)

* * *

 **When the Midnight Hour Comes  
** by Enthusiastic Fish

" _Do you not know that there comes a midnight hour when every one has to throw off his mask? Do you believe that life will always let itself be mocked? Do you think you can slip away a little before midnight in order to avoid this? Or are you not terrified by it? I have seen men in real life who so long deceived others that at last their true nature could not reveal itself;... In every man there is something which to a certain degree prevents him from becoming perfectly transparent to himself; and this may be the case in so high a degree, he may be so inexplicably woven into relationships of life which extend far beyond himself that he almost cannot reveal himself. But he who cannot reveal himself cannot love, and he who cannot love is the most unhappy man of all."  
_ _~Soren Kierkegaard_

 **Chapter 1**

He had actually been asleep. He was on the couch, but he was sleeping. The hands came out of nowhere and pulled him from his slumber. He tried to fight them, but there were too many. They covered his mouth and kept him from making any sound. They pulled him toward the front door when he managed to get free. He started fighting back, but there were too many of them. He managed to take out one with a hard hit to the face. He swung as hard as he could. No mercy. Then, he started against another one and he had a little more room to fight, but another came from behind and hit him hard, not knocking him out, but making him just dazed enough that he couldn't keep fighting back.

They tied his hands behind him and dragged him out of the house toward a waiting van. He struggled a little, but it was pretty much useless at this point.

Then, his mind cleared just enough to see the fire in the house.

He threw himself against one of the men, dragging him down, and tried to get free.

One arm free, and he started fighting back again.

Then, there was a small explosion. Small, but the fire began to spread even faster. There was no sign of movement inside.

"Tamara!"

It was the first sound he'd made.

They got him to the van and threw him inside.

He hurled himself against the back doors of the van, trying to force them open as it started to move.

They grabbed him and dragged him back, but not before he saw the house engulfed in flames. ...and no sign of any movement inside.

He felt like his heart was being torn apart as surely as the house was being destroyed. With one mighty heave, he pulled away from his captors and threw himself against the back doors. They burst open and he fell out of the van to the ground, tumbling head over heels, scraping his arms and legs. He ignored the blood he could feel on his skin. He heard the van skid to a stop behind him, but his attention was all on the house.

"Tamara!" he shouted, as loudly as he could, desperately wanting to warn her. "Tamara!"

He managed to get to his feet and tried to run toward the house, but it didn't work. They grabbed him again, and then, a few seconds later, they all fell back a little as the house exploded, showering them in ashes and debris.

He stopped struggling and lay motionless on the ground, staring at the destruction of what little he had valued in his life.

"No," he whispered. "No."

Then, they picked him up again, but this time, he didn't fight them at all as they threw him back into the van. He just submitted to what they were doing to him.

It didn't matter now.

Nothing did.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

A beam of light peeked through the blinds and hit him in the eye. Tim stretched and opened his eyes. No nightmares. That made this morning amazing already. Then, he rolled over and smiled.

Zahara was still asleep, her hair falling across her face. Tim always felt that Zahara became more beautiful as she slept. He woke up with drool on his face, his hair sticking up at odd angles and wrinkles on his face from the pillow. She woke up and could go and be a model somewhere without doing a thing.

He lay there for a few minutes, just enjoying looking at his wife, and then, he decided it was time to get up. He rolled back and turned off his alarm before it could go off and wake her. Then, he slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom so that he could change into his running clothes.

When he walked out into the living room, he heard the jingle of a collar and he smiled.

"Hey, Jethro. You ready to go running?" he asked.

He could see that Jethro was ready. He already had the leash in his mouth. Tim chuckled and clipped the leash to Jethro's collar. Then, he left and headed out for a run. His CIA watchers were prepared, as usual. Tim took a bit longer route than usual, but he didn't push it. Instead, he got home only five minutes later than he did with the path he often ran. As he came in, he saw that Zahara had got up already. Her tea kettle was heating up, and his coffee was percolating. There was also a bowl of batter sitting on the counter, covered with a tea towel. He could hear the shower running.

Smiling to himself, he fed Jethro and then walked into the bedroom. He pulled off his sweaty clothes, put them in the hamper and went into the bathroom.

"Majāl lishakhsayn?" he asked, focusing on his pronunciation which he still wasn't very good at.

"Dā'iman," Zahara called to him.

Tim thought for a moment of what the word was and then smiled and climbed into the shower. Zahara was washing the shampoo out of her hair with her eyes closed. He put his arms around her and kissed her soapy cheek.

"I am trying to get clean, Tim," she said, smiling. "You are dirty."

"Just sweaty."

"That is dirty," Zahara said. She put her face in the water to rinse away the soap and then opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Dirt and sweat. Not the same."

"You sweat so much," she said, smiling. "I do not... I _don't_ understand how you can sweat all the time and not lose all the water in your body."

Tim laughed. "I don't, either."

The shower wasn't huge, and it took some maneuvering to switch places so that Tim could also shower. Zahara finished and got out to dry off and get dressed while Tim finished. By the time he was dressed, Zahara was in the kitchen getting her tea and his coffee. He could smell that Zahara had decided to make baghrir pancakes. He supposed that she was feeling like having more Moroccan things since her brother was coming today.

"Smells great," he said.

"You always say that," Zahara said as he sat down. "It smells the same every time I make them."

"And it always smells great," Tim said, grinning. "I have to keep running because you feed me so well. The most I used to have for breakfast was cereal."

"I do not understand why you would eat that cereal," she said, wrinkling her nose. "It is not filling and it cannot be that good for you. That is not enough for what you do."

"Well, sometimes, it's the nostalgia," Tim said.

There was a blank look, and Tim had to think of how to define _nostalgia_. After more than two years here in the States, Zahara's vocabulary was quite extensive, and she rarely tripped over word choices, but sometimes, there was a word that she'd never heard before and he'd have to explain it. Sometimes, it was easier than others.

"It reminds me of happy times when I was a kid. That's nostalgia."

She nodded and handed him a plate of baghrir.

"Isn't that why you like these pancakes?" he asked.

"They taste better than your cereal shaped like dinosaurs," Zahara said.

"Says you," Tim said, grinning. "Isn't it, though?"

Zahara looked at her pancakes for a moment and then, she nodded.

"Yes, I think so. My mother would make these pancakes for us many mornings. It was the first thing she taught me to make."

Tim poured the honey-butter sauce over his pancakes. He liked his pancakes drenched in the stuff while Zahara was much more conservative with her portions. They ate for a few minutes in silence.

"Do you have your dance class today?" he asked, as he reached for some more pancakes.

"No. Not today. I am meeting with...oh, what is that word. The one who is looking at my family."

"Oh, the genealogist."

"Yes! It is a strange word."

"Not part of usual conversation."

"No. I cannot... can't believe that one can make a living doing this."

"Probably not all of them can, but did she say that she'd figured out your father's side?"

"She said she had found some information, but she did... didn't say what it was."

Tim grinned. "You don't _have_ to use the contractions, you know. I understand you just fine, and so does everyone else."

"I know, but Americans use them. I am going to be an American. I wish to speak as Americans do. It is just that I have to think of them each time." Then, she widened her eyes slightly. "Will you be able to meet Ahmed at the airport in the evening?"

"I'm going to tell Gibbs about it when I get to work. Hopefully, nothing will come up. I think he'll be fine with it unless something absolutely needs me."

"Good. I do not like driving here."

"Most people don't."

"I know. That is why they are all in such bad moods."

Tim laughed and then looked at his watch.

"I'd better get going. If I'm going to leave early, I'd better not be late."

He carried his plate to the sink, rinsed it off and put it in the dishwasher, knowing that Zahara would likely take it out of the dishwasher and wash it herself once he left. It was one of the things about her. She didn't want to use the dishwasher unless there were a lot of dishes. He had explained that they could just wait until they had a full load, but no. She wasn't interested in it.

Then, he grabbed his bag and his badge and gun. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

"I love you," he said.

"And I love you. Let me know if you cannot come."

"I will."

Then, he left, counting his blessings for the life he had.

...even as the CIA car pulled in behind him as he drove to work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

After Tim left, Zahara opened the dishwasher and pulled out Tim's dishes. She carried them to the sink and washed all the breakfast dishes before drying them and putting them away. She would never understand why he would bother leaving the dirty dishes sitting there when she could wash them just as easily and save the dishwasher for the big jobs. But Tim just didn't seem to be interested in it.

Then, she smiled. There were many things about life in the United States that she found strange, but overall, she wouldn't trade the life she had for anything. Who would have thought that a chance meeting would lead to such happiness?

She looked at the ring he had given her and smiled. The blue stone always got people asking about it. She had not realized how different it was until she had begun getting out in public and finding her own circle of friends, unrelated to NCIS. None of her friends who were married had colored stones for their rings. They were all regular diamonds. The blue stood out more than Zahara would ever have guessed but she wouldn't trade it.

Not surprisingly, she had found friends through dancing. At first, she hadn't been able to work, and so, with Tim's encouragement, she had volunteered at a studio that taught belly dancing. She had been surprised to see what was being passed off as Middle Eastern dance. While she knew that there were different types found all over, the only people she'd ever seen dance the way these people danced were in the tourist places, the ones that weren't interested in showing reality. They showed the movies.

Zahara had been hesitant to point out that the belly dancing wasn't what they did in Morocco (or other places), but when she had explained some of her own experience and had described the tea tray dance, the instructors were fascinated and had asked her to dance for them so that they could see what she meant. Zahara had been very uncertain about it, but, at least in the beginning, they had all been women and she felt better about that. She had never been able to get used to how much men and women mixed in the United States. In some ways, she liked it, but in others, it was worse than the worst day in the market in Marrakech.

Still, she had made friends and, for the last few months, she'd been actually making money teaching dance there.

Today, however, she would be, hopefully, finding out more about her father. Tim had suggested that she try it, but Zahara had never thought that there could possibly be someone whose _job_ was to find people's families. She really hoped that she'd have something to share with Ahmed when he got here.

Quickly, Zahara finished cleaning up the kitchen. Then, she left for her appointment with the genealogist. She still noticed the CIA people every time she was out in public, but for Tim's sake, she never complained. It was a little awkward for her to be followed everywhere, but they _were_ unobtrusive. She had spoken to one of them once, wanting to know just how everything worked and the agent had been friendly and professional. It helped. It also helped that the agents who watched her were all female. It made her much more comfortable with the idea.

When she reached the library, she went back to one of the private rooms and met the genealogist, Lucy Mattson.

"Zahara, I'm glad you made it. Have a seat."

Zahara nodded and sat down at the table.

"You said you had found something. Do you know my father's family?"

"I think I might have found his line. Let me show you. Your parents were Salma and Amud Mokrani. Your mother's line is easy to trace. Once I found the marriage certificate from Melilla, I could make a line for her. No problem."

Lucy laid out a pedigree chart and showed how far back she'd been able to trace Salma's family. They were Spanish, going back many generations, mostly in Melilla or Ceuta, although there were some other Berber and Arab additions along the way.

"I know you were aware of that already, but I wanted to show you that much. Now, your father has been more difficult, simply because it doesn't look like there were many records kept in his family line, at least not any that I could access from here."

"Oh." Zahara was disappointed. She had hoped that...

"That doesn't mean I found nothing. Actually, if you ever go back to Morocco, you would be perfectly placed to get more information."

"Why is that?"

"Because I found the village where your father was born."

"The village?"

"Yes. He was born in a small village in the Anti-Atlas Mountains, part of the Aït Atta confederation. What I could find is that, when he came to Melilla, he listed this village as his birthplace and that is what gave me the information I needed. But getting more than that from here will be very difficult. I can keep trying, see if I can get in contact with anyone in Morocco who might be able to help me out, but this is a start, and if you can get to Morocco yourself, you would be able to go to the Zagora Province to talk to people there. They would be able to help, especially if you gave them your father's name and where he was from."

"I have heard of the Aït Atta, but I did not know that my father was one of them."

"How much do you know about them?"

"Very little. The name is familiar to me. That is all."

"Well, the Aït Atta are one of the last nomadic Berber tribes in Morocco. There are still some Arab lines in the various tribes, but they adopted Berber customs a long time ago. They resisted French colonization for years, sometimes violently. They're not so violent now, but like many in the Berber villages, it seems that your father couldn't make a living where he was or else he wanted a different life than he would have had there. So he left. What led him to Melilla in particular could simply be that he was able to find work there and he couldn't other places. Your mother never said anything?"

Zahara shook her head. "No. After he left, she never spoke of him unless Ahmed or I asked her. She did not seem angry at him. She never spoke ill, but when I was older, I felt as though she did not want to talk about him to me, but I always wanted to know more of who he was. It is half of me, and it has been missing."

"I don't know if it'll be easy, but it is possible. Just not online," Lucy said, with a smile.

"I do not think that I will be getting back to Morocco soon, but I do have friends there. If I asked them to help and they could not, would you still be able to see if you could find more?"

"Of course," Lucy said, smiling. "Here's the information I've found and you can let me know what you're able to do."

Zahara leaned over the chart and listened as Lucy explained everything she could. After about twenty minutes, Zahara felt that she understood what was possible and what was not. She thanked Lucy and left. As she walked back out to the street, she was happy about what she'd found and about the potential for learning more. If only she had known where to start looking while she was living in Marrakech. Still, there were possibilities.

That seemed to be much of what America was. Possibilities. Not always certainties, not always realities. Just possibilities. It was possible to do almost anything that wasn't expressly prohibited by the law...but it might not work out, and for many, there was no safety net if it didn't.

Zahara wasn't always sure that she liked it, but at the same time, she wouldn't trade it for anything. She headed to a local market. She wanted Ahmed to have some American flavors and some flavors of home while he was here. She was excited to see him and excited have him see this next change in her life.

When she became an American citizen.

She had studied very hard and both she and Tim had worked on the legal requirements together. Even with a lawyer speeding up the process, it had been complicated, but it was finally finishing, and Zahara knew that her application had been expedited due to the connections Tim had. It was exciting and a little frightening, but she was ready for it.

A very different life from what she had expected to have, but it was wonderful.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim got off the elevator and was glad to see Gibbs at his desk.

"Hey, Boss," he said, ignoring both Tony and Ziva for the moment.

Gibbs looked at him with eyebrows up.

"Zahara's brother is flying in this evening from Cairo and Zahara still doesn't feel comfortable driving around here. Will it be a problem if I leave a little early to pick him up? If there's a case or something, I know I'll need to stay, but all things being equal?"

"It's fine, McGee," Gibbs said, although Tim suspected that in any other situation, Gibbs would make him feel guilty about it. Still, when it came to his marriage, Gibbs tended to be a lot easier on him.

"Thanks."

"Ooh, brother-in-law," Tony said. "You nervous?"

"Why would I be? I've met him before, Tony," Tim said. "He was at our wedding. _You_ met him. He was nice enough. Solemn, but nice."

"Yeah, but this is going to be his chance to check up on you and see how you're treating his sister who just happens to be his only family. You'd better be up to snuff."

"Oh, shut up, Tony," Ziva said. "Zahara is becoming a citizen this weekend. _That_ is why he is here. It is not to check on Tim. Do not make him worry about nothing."

Tony just grinned mischievously and went back to work.

Tim tried to ignore what Tony had said, but it was hard to do it. Once the suggestion had been made, he worried about what Ahmed might think of him. He had seemed to like him at the wedding, but that had been almost two years ago. Maybe he'd changed his mind.

But surely, Zahara would have warned him if that was the case. She had no reason to blindside him or anything like that. Then, Tim shook his head. He was letting Tony bug him and there was no reason to think that Ahmed would have changed his mind.

But he still couldn't stop thinking about it.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

There was heat above her and cold below.

That was all she knew for a long time. Heat above, cold below.

Gradually, she became more aware and she heard noises. She couldn't identify those noises, but they were there.

After another untold length of time, she could discern multiple noises, one of which was a creaking sound. It was coming from high above her.

Finally, she was awake enough that she thought about the necessity of opening her eyes.

She rolled over onto her back and stared up.

...at trees. Trees swaying above her in a strong wind. That was the creaking sound. The branches of the trees.

After an unknown time spent staring at the trees, she began to feel aware enough to think about the rest of her surroundings. Slowly, carefully, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, feeling pain as she moved around. Nothing sharp enough to indicate a broken bone, but significant enough that it helped her focus a little more.

As she looked around, she saw mostly trees.

...until she looked behind her. Then, she saw the smoldering ruin that had been a cabin. Finally, she began to recall what had happened.

"Levi," she whispered.

She looked around from her position on the ground, not far from the remains of the cabin. Somehow, she knew that Levi wouldn't be there, but she had to make sure.

Gingerly, she got to her feet, holding onto a tree trunk to steady her as a wave of dizziness threatened to overcome her balance. As soon as she felt able to walk, she made her way to the cabin. As she walked, glass crunched under her feet and she tripped over pieces of wood and metal. Whatever had happened had destroyed the place.

"Levi?" she called out. "Levi!"

There was no reply. No sound other than the wind and crackle of a few smaller fires.

She stared at the cabin for a while and then made her way around to the front. She could see that someone _had_ been there. The gravel driveway, although also covered with debris, had two deep ruts from someone speeding away.

Somehow, she knew that Levi had been taken, that whoever had come here had taken him away...and had probably intended to kill her while she slept.

She walked into the smoldering ruins and looked around. There seemed to be nothing left. Everything had been destroyed.

...or almost everything. Something caught her eye.

On the floor was a singed photograph of four people, gaunt, starved, dying. It was the photograph Levi always carried with him, the one his mother had shown him. She picked it up and then walked back out of the cabin and turned around to look at how little was left, knowing that she should have been dead, too.

She swallowed as she stared at the burned out cabin. Then, she started to shake and she fell to her knees, the photo falling from her fingers, and she covered her face as she started to cry.

"Oh, Levi..."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Tim looked at the time and then at Gibbs.

"Boss, do you mind?"

Gibbs looked at him and then at his watch.

"Go."

"Thanks."

Tim logged out, grabbed his bag and headed for the elevator.

"Don't let Ahmed knock you down too quickly, McGee!" Tony called after him.

"Shut up, Tony," Ziva said, glaring at him. "See you tomorrow, Tim."

Tim just laughed and waved. He hurried home so that he could pick up Zahara and not have to meet Ahmed on his own. Even though he knew that Tony was just needling him, it didn't stop him from worrying just a little bit. But he _was_ glad that Tony was treating him normally. Every so often, it was like Tony suddenly remembered everything that had happened and he started treating Tim as if he was on the verge of breaking. It would go on like that for a few days and then head back to normal again. It was frustrating for Tim, but he tried to deal with it as it came. Right now, Tony was in a normal mode.

He ran inside and up to the apartment.

"Zahara! I'm home! Just let me change and I'll be ready to go!" he called.

Zahara looked up from a book in surprise.

"You are here earlier than I thought you would be," she said.

"Gibbs let me go and traffic wasn't too bad. Just let me change my clothes and..."

"And you will eat something first," Zahara interrupted.

"I don't need to. I can eat later."

Zahara shook her head. "No. Ahmed told me that he would be eating on the plane. He will not need a meal. I have eaten already. You have not eaten dinner. So you will eat _something_ before we go."

Tim started unbuttoning his shirt while Zahara was talking.

"I'm not that fragile, Zahara," he said.

Zahara put down her book and walked over to him. She stopped his hands and then lifted them to her mouth and kissed them.

"I do not think you are fragile, Tim. I think you ignore yourself when you think you must. That is fine when you really must. But this is not a time for that." She let go of his hands and put her hands on his cheeks, pulling down his head until it was touching her own. "We will be there in plenty of time to meet Ahmed."

Tim stood motionless for a few seconds. Then, Zahara let him go and when he looked at her, she smiled mischievously.

"Now, go and change. We do not want to be late."

Tim laughed at her and went into the bedroom. He quickly changed out of his work clothes and into something a little more comfortable. When he came back into the kitchen, Zahara had set out a sandwich.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Kefta."

"Lamb or beef?"

"Lamb," Zahara said. "You will learn to like it."

Tim chuckled as he picked up the sandwich and started to eat.

"I never said I didn't like lamb," he said through a mouthful.

"No, but you get a look on your face when we have it," Zahara said. She scrunched up her nose and pursed her lips.

Tim swallowed and laughed again. "I do not! I'll admit that I like beef better, but I have _never_ made that face in my life."

Zahara laughed.

"So which does Ahmed like best?"

"I do not know," Zahara said, after thinking a moment. "When we were still in Melilla, he always ate whatever was put in front of him. He never said he liked something or hated something. He just ate. A lot."

"Sounds like a typical guy to me."

He finished eating the sandwich and had to admit that it was nice to have something quick and filling. Zahara had found a bakery that made some of the Moroccan-style bread she preferred, but she always made the kefta or any other meat mixture herself. It made the apartment smell of spices much of the time, but there were worse things. Tim knew that his palate was definitely broadening by being with Zahara. It wasn't that they ate Moroccan or Spanish-style meals every night, of course. Tim had introduced her to pizza and hamburgers and other western-style meals, but if Zahara made something quickly, it was nearly always Moroccan.

"Okay, I'm ready to go. Are you?" he asked.

"Yes. I ate before you came. Remember?" Zahara said.

Tim drank a glass of water to wash down the sandwich, set the glass in the sink and then, they hurried down to his car. As they headed to the airport, Tim glanced at Zahara. He knew she was excited to see Ahmed again. It had been quite a while and they had been very close as children.

"So...do you think Ahmed has changed his mind about me since he was here last?" Tim asked, trying to sound casual.

"Why would he change his mind?" Zahara asked.

"I don't know. Maybe he decided that my life wasn't compatible with yours."

Zahara furrowed her brow.

"Why would he decide that, now?"

"I don't know."

"Tim...are you nervous about having Ahmed here?"

"I wasn't...until Tony started suggesting that he might be reconsidering having me as a brother-in-law."

Zahara laughed.

"Ahmed has never said anything like that to me. He wishes me to be happy. He knows that I am. And he knows it's because of you. Do not let Tony make you nervous."

"He's just so good at it," Tim said, smiling.

"Yes, but he is good at many things, and you know what he is like."

"I do."

They got to Dulles and parked. As they walked into the airport, Tim felt Zahara walk close to him, but they didn't hold hands or anything. He knew that she was very uncomfortable with showing affection in public, but she was also still not quite comfortable with U.S. society. It was getting easier for her, but it wasn't the world she was used to. Even Melilla had been more conservative than D.C. was, and she had grown up in a conservative home. He didn't put his arm around her, but he knew that she would let him know if she needed more.

Once they arrived by the baggage claim, they started to watch for Ahmed. His plane had landed, but he had to go through customs and that could take a while.

"I can't get used to how many people there are here," Zahara said.

"Yeah, it's like the whole world is in the airport at the same time," Tim agreed.

After about ten minutes, Zahara suddenly started walking forward. Tim followed her trajectory and saw Ahmed. Both of them had the same exotic look that kept one from knowing exactly where they were from. They were quintessentially multicultural, just by virtue of their genetics.

"Ahmed," Zahara said, happily. "You made it. Marhāba!"

Ahmed smiled. "Es bueno verte," he said to her and then looked at Tim. "Hello, Tim."

"Welcome back, Ahmed," Tim said and put out his hand.

Ahmed shook it firmly and they walked out together.

"How was your flight?" Tim asked.

"Very long. It will be good to be off the plane."

"I'm sure. Well, it won't be a long drive home. Are you hungry?"

"Not at all," Ahmed said. "I ate on the plane. The food is not exciting, but it was filling enough."

Tim nodded and didn't push it. Zahara clearly happy to see Ahmed, her dark eyes twinkling with excitement. Ahmed hadn't been able to visit since the wedding.

When they got to the car, Zahara sat in the back with Ahmed and they began speaking animatedly in Spanish. Tim didn't bother trying to follow anything they said. He knew a little bit of Spanish, but not enough that he could understand a real conversation. However, he didn't begrudge them the chance to speak in the language they wanted and catch up in person rather than online or on the phone. He heard Zahara say _papa_ a number of times and he assumed she must be telling Ahmed about the genealogist.

The roads weren't too bad. It was just long enough after rush hour that Tim was able to get them home quickly. Once he parked, they went up to the apartment and only when they were inside did Zahara hug her brother tightly.

"You'll be in the spare room," Tim said, pointing to it. "I'll put your bag in there, if you want to keep talking."

"Thank you," Ahmed said and handed Tim his bag. Then, he and Zahara sat down, still speaking Spanish.

Tim deposited the bag in the room. Zahara had made sure it was ready for Ahmed's visit. Then, Tim took Jethro out for his evening walk.

"Agent McGee."

Tim turned and saw one of his guards.

"Yes?"

"A visitor?"

"Zahara's brother," Tim said.

"How long will he be here?"

"Just until Monday. He's come for the citizenship ceremony on Saturday."

"Anything we need to know?"

Tim shook his head. "I can't think of anything. He'll be with Zahara or with the both of us the whole time. He's not really here for sightseeing, although there might be some of that."

"That's fine. Just wanted to check in."

Tim nodded and with that, the agent slipped back into the dark. Tim continued on his way. By the time he got back, the siblings were finally ready to have a conversation in a language other than Spanish.

"Hey," Tim said as he came in. He decided not to mention speaking with the guard. Zahara knew about them, but he didn't know if Ahmed did and he didn't feel right about saying anything about them to him.

"Tim, come and tell us what Ahmed should see while he is here," Zahara said. "We will have all day tomorrow while you are working."

"You know what he should see as well as I do," Tim said, smiling, but he sat down on the couch.

"I haven't seen everything."

"I haven't, either," Tim said. "But you should take him to the National Mall. We didn't get there when you came for the wedding, did we?""

"No. I do not think we went to a mall," Ahmed said.

"This is where all the monuments are," Tim said. "Actually...you like geology, right?"

"Rocks? Yes," Ahmed said. "Why?"

Tim looked at Zahara. "You've got to take him to the Natural History Museum. It's got gemstones and a big geology exhibit, plus displays on dinosaurs and bugs and stuff. It's a lot of fun."

"I don't think I have been there," Zahara said.

"I don't know if I took you or not," Tim said. "It's one of the Smithsonian museums, though, and that will be fun. It's right by the National Mall, too. Then, you can take him around to see all the other stuff. In fact, I could drop you both off on my way to work tomorrow and then, if everything stays normal, I could pick you up in the evening. How does that sound?"

"That sounds wonderful," Zahara said. "Ahmed?"

"Yes. That will be good. It is early, I know, but I am tired."

Tim smiled. "It's eight hours later to you. I'm sure you're tired. Don't stay up on my account. I'll see you in the morning."

Ahmed just nodded. He hugged Zahara and then went into the spare room. After he was gone, Zahara walked over to Tim and sat beside him on the couch.

"I am sorry that we spoke so long in a language you do not know. It was selfish."

"No," Tim said. "He's your brother. You have a connection to each other that's important. If you spoke Spanish or Arabic around me the entire time he was here, I might start worrying, but otherwise, it's fine. Were you telling him about your father?"

Zahara leaned on him.

"Yes. I know where he was from, but anything more will have to be done in Morocco. I was thinking of asking Fatima and Ibrahim if they could go to the Zagova province and see what there might be about him."

"Maybe we could go ourselves."

"You have said that it is not safe for you in that part of the world."

"It could be dangerous, but not necessarily, especially not in Morocco."

Zahara shook her head. "No, Tim. For now, I will see if my friends can help. If they cannot, Lucy will see if she can find things herself. I wish to know about my father, but not at the expense of you."

Tim smiled tenderly. "I wouldn't see it that way."

Zahara smiled back and stroked his cheek.

"I know you would not. I am not tired yet."

"Neither am I."

"I still have some movies Tony told me to watch."

Tim grinned at the change in subject. "Okay. Your turn to pick."

Zahara nodded and walked over to the stack of DVDs. Then, she picked up one of the series.

"We should watch this."

"That's not a movie. It's a TV series," Tim said.

"Then, we will watch just two episodes. That will be one movie."

Tim smiled. "Okay. Tony said that one of the main characters in this reminds him of what Ducky must have looked like when he was younger."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Zahara put the DVD in the player and then, she sat down and snuggled up beside Tim as the first episode of _The Man from U.N.C.L.E._ began to play.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

After a while, she calmed down enough to think. She couldn't stay out here forever. It was getting late and she needed to get back to civilization. They never brought phones when they came out here. So there was no calling anyone, and this place was completely secluded. She wouldn't be surprised if no one had noticed the fire. That meant that she had to get out on her own.

Fine. She would.

Levi was still alive. She was going to bank on that and that whoever had done this wanted him for some reason. There were probably plenty of people who had plenty of reasons. She needed help. She needed to find someone who could help her figure out who and where and why. That wouldn't be regular law enforcement. She needed to find someone else who could help.

But first, she needed to get out of here.

Still shaky, but determined, she got to her feet again. She knew the way home. She would make it. No matter how long it took, no matter what. She was not going to be beaten. She had spent too long trying to rebuild her life. No way was someone going to take it from her now.

Not now. Not ever.

She looked at the road and she tried not to think about how far she would have to walk.

Then, she took a step.

And another one.

And another.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Tim woke up after a restless night. They happened sometimes to everyone and he was no exception. At least this time was more than likely because of his wife tossing and turning all night long. He rolled over and saw that Zahara was already awake. Her eyes were open as she lay facing him.

"Good morning," Tim said. "Are you ready?"

"No," Zahara said, but she smiled. "And yes."

"No regrets?"

"None."

Tim smiled and kissed her.

"Do you want me to make breakfast?"

Zahara laughed. "I am not that tired _or_ that nervous. But you may be."

"Why?"

"Because Ahmed asked me to tell you that he would like to go running with you this morning."

"What? Why?"

"I think it is because he wishes to speak to you while I am not around. I do not know what about, but he did not seem to be in a threatening mood."

Tim laughed a little. "Oh, thanks. That makes me feel _so_ much better."

"I knew it would. Now, get up and get it done. I will get up and get ready to make breakfast."

"All right, all right."

Tim got up, grimacing at the prospect of time spent alone with Ahmed, no Zahara as a buffer. Ahmed had never done anything to indicate that he didn't like Tim, but he was always so serious.

"Well, if your brother decides he hates me, at least I'll have Jethro with me for protection."

Zahara sat up, laughing.

"He does not hate you. I know that."

"Thanks."

"You are welcome."

Tim walked out of the bedroom and went to the room Ahmed had been sleeping in. He knocked softly, hoping that Ahmed would still be asleep.

Alas, the door opened quickly and Ahmed was dressed for running, although for some reason, it seemed strange to Tim that he was. He hadn't seen Ahmed much, but he had never seen him wearing casual clothing.

"Zahara said you wanted to go running with me, this morning?" Tim said.

"Na'am," Ahmed said. "You are ready to go?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Tim nodded and led Ahmed out of the building, with Jethro trotting along side them. They drove to Rock Creek Park and started running. It was almost silent and Tim felt very awkward. He figured that Ahmed must have something he wanted to say, but what that was, he had no idea, nor why it had to be while running. After about twenty minutes, Ahmed slowed and Tim followed suit.

"Do you mind stopping here?" Ahmed asked, pointing to an upcoming bench.

"No."

"Good."

Tim slowed to a walk and then walked with Ahmed to the bench and sat down. Jethro seemed uncertain because this wasn't normal for a run, but eventually, he settled down beside Tim and began drooling on his knee. Tim patted him and then focused on Ahmed.

"What is it, Ahmed?" Tim asked.

"My sister is becoming an American today."

"Yes, she is."

"Why?"

"Uh...couldn't you ask her?"

"Yes, but I wish to know what _you_ say," Ahmed said, seriously.

"Honestly, it's mostly for convenience, as far as I'm concerned. If she's an American, she can't suddenly be deported. She can get a passport which will make traveling to and from the U.S. a lot easier. She can get a job. If you're thinking that I don't want her to be Spanish or Moroccan, you're wrong. I don't care about that. I just want to make her life easy because she's given up so much for me. I can't live in Morocco. It's not safe for me. Nowhere is completely safe, but Morocco is definitely not safe and neither are a lot of other places in the Arabic-speaking world."

"She has told me what she has found of our father."

Tim chanced a smile and nodded. "She's been excited about finding more of him than she knows. Do _you_ know more?"

"No. Our mother did not speak of him. When I became an adult, she gave me this ring that belonged to him." Ahmed held up his hand and Tim was surprised to see a heavy silver ring. He hadn't even noticed it before. "I think it must be the symbol of his tribe, but I do not know."

"It looks very old," Tim said.

"It does."

There was silence, and then, Tim wondered if part of Ahmed's concern was because his own father had left his mother. If that was it, then, Tim was relieved because he could dismiss those concerns easily.

"Ahmed, I love your sister. Zahara means more to me than anything else. When we got married, I promised to care for her and respect her. I fully intend to keep that promise, no matter what else happens."

Ahmed looked at him for a long time. Then, he reached into his pocked and pulled out a small object. It looked like a necklace charm or something with a simple leather cord. It was in the shape of a hand. He held it out.

"This is the khamsa or the Hand of Fatima. It is a charm of protection. This was also my father's. He gave it to me when I was very young. To keep me safe. I wish you to have it."

"Oh," Tim said, in surprise. "Shouldn't this be Zahara's?"

"No. This is from my father to me, his son. Now, I give it to you as my brother. Zahara has received other gifts. This is for you. I wish my sister to be happy and she is, with you. May it protect you from any evil."

Ahmed held out the small, stylized hand. It was made of silver, like the ring, and like the ring, appeared to be very old, although the leather cord was newer. Tim took it, feeling touched at the gift.

"Thank you," Tim said.

"You are welcome. We should go back, now. I do not wish to make my sister late." Then, for almost the first time, Ahmed smiled. "She would never let me forget."

Tim stood and smiled as well. "My little sister is the same way."

They ran back to the car, and the drive back was, again, silent, but this time, it didn't seem so bad. When they got inside the apartment, Zahara was in the kitchen, cooking. She looked beautiful as always. Tim knew he was slightly prejudiced, but he didn't care. She was beautiful and he would always see her that way...no matter how she looked to anyone else.

"It smells like eggs," Tim said.

Zahara turned around and smiled.

"It is eggs. I am making omelets."

"Sounds great to me. I'm going to go and shower."

"Do not take too long. I am almost finished."

"I won't."

Tim hurried into the bathroom and showered quickly. When he got out, Zahara was just dishing up the omelets. Ahmed was just coming out of the other bathroom himself.

"Would you prefer tea or coffee, Ahmed?" Zahara asked.

"Tea," Ahmed said.

Zahara looked almost triumphant, and Tim laughed.

"I told you that tea is better," she said.

"Just because you two like tea better does not make it objectively better. I'm still drinking my coffee instead."

Ahmed chuckled a little bit and Tim found it a relief to see that Zahara's normally-solemn brother could laugh.

They sat together and ate breakfast. Then, Zahara went back into the bedroom to get ready while Tim cleaned up breakfast. Ahmed went into the spare bedroom as well, and Tim had a few minutes alone. After getting the dishes into the dishwasher (and starting it running to keep Zahara from trying to wash the dishes herself on this special day), he sat down on the couch and pulled the khamsa out of his pocket. Jethro trotted over and sat beside him. Tim patted the dog once, but his attention was on the necklace.

The hand was simply shaped, for all that it wasn't precisely accurate, but in the center of it, there was an eye. Warding away evil, Ahmed had said. Tim wasn't sure he believed in that stuff, but he respected many who did...and he could use all the help he could get in keeping evil out of his life.

Beyond all that, he was surprised at the sentiment. During this visit, Tim hadn't been sure if Ahmed really liked him or not. He was so stern, but he had called Tim his brother and had given him a family heirloom. That was special.

Finally, Tim decided to wear it. It would be under his clothes and no one would see it unless he pointed it out. Decision made, he slipped the charm under his shirt, not wanting to show it off, as Zahara came out, dressed in a deep-blue shirt and gray slacks. She smiled at him.

"I wanted to match my ring."

Tim laughed and stood up.

"You're beautiful, Zahara. All the way through. Doesn't matter what you wear."

Zahara walked over to him and kissed him.

"I am happy with you, Tim. I will always be happy. Even if we fight, I will still be happy with you."

Tim hugged her tightly.

"I love you."

"And I love you," she said.

Then, the door to the bedroom opened and Ahmed came out. Zahara let Tim go quickly.

"Are you ready, Ahmed?" she asked.

"Yes, I am ready to go."

Because of the venue where the citizenship ceremony would be taking place, there wasn't room for anyone besides immediate family. So while everyone knew about it, only Tim and Ahmed were there. They sat down on either side of Zahara.

The ceremony was fairly lengthy, but Tim didn't care about that. He didn't care that the chair he was sitting on was hard, that the person on the other side of him was a lot larger than he was and was definitely taking more than his share of space.

He didn't care about any of it. He was just waiting until the moment came that Zahara took the Oath of Allegiance.

Finally, that time arrived. Zahara stood up and began to recite the formal words. She had practiced them many times in the last few weeks, wanting to say them all perfectly.

"'I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty, of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen..."

As she continued to recite it, Tim was struck anew by the sacrifices Zahara had made for him. He couldn't live in Morocco permanently, although he hoped to be able to take her back with him at some point. She had jumped into the deep end of the pool in coming here and making it her permanent home. In a way, this process was only cementing what Zahara had already done for him.

And he loved her for it.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

There was a small window in the room they were using to hold him. It was a very small window and it was barred. It let in a little bit of light, but not much. It was probably frosted over or something.

And he didn't care, not at all. Part of him did wonder if they were confused by how little he reacted to everything they'd done to him so far. He knew that he might care later on, but at this moment, with the loss so fresh in his mind, he didn't care about anything.

Nothing mattered now that Tamara was dead.

He had given up his family, everything that made life good, to protect them. Once he had left the CIA, he had gone back to what family he'd had left. Maybe that had been a mistake.

Regardless, Tamara was dead, and that meant they had no way of getting him to talk...if talking was what they had in mind. He hadn't been asked any questions yet, but that didn't mean they weren't coming soon.

He hadn't yet decided whether or not he'd answer them. Everyone could be broken, but he was already completely broken and that meant that they'd failed. The key to breaking someone was to give them the possibility of escape, no matter how often it was taken away. It had to be there, the idea that one could get away from the pain...through cooperation.

He had no hope. There was no way to escape the pain of the loss of the woman he loved. So he was broken and there was nothing that more that could be done to him than they had done already.

There was nothing left of Levi Carew. All that remained was the dried husk of who he had been. The rest had died with Tamara.

The door banged open. He didn't fight them, didn't protest, didn't say a word as they dragged him out.

Lost in his grief, he barely felt the pain.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Zahara walked out of the building, her brother on one side and her husband on the other. It was like walking between her past and her future, but the wonderful thing was that she didn't have to give up either one. It was a strange feeling, knowing that she was now officially a citizen of the United States. Something she had never even dreamed of as a child.

Suddenly, Tim stopped her and looked down the sidewalk.

"Zahara, Agent Bishop is here. I need to talk to her, just for a minute. I'll be right back."

"All right, Tim," Zahara said and watched as he jogged over to a short woman with blonde hair.

"Who is that?" Ahmed asked quietly.

"I do not know for certain," Zahara said. "Tim has mentioned her before, but she does not work at NCIS. There are many different people he works with."

"I see."

Something in Ahmed's tone made her look at him and she smiled at his expression.

"Ahmed, it is not what you are thinking. Tim works with her. Men often work with women. This is normal here."

To her relief, Ahmed smiled and nodded.

"I know that it happens, even in al-Qahira, but... it is not what _I_ am used to."

"I know. It is different here from how we grew up. Many things are different here."

"Zahara, is this really what you want?" Ahmed asked. "There are many who hate the United States _and_ all Americans. You are now one of them. Some wish violence on America."

Zahara turned toward him fully.

"Ahmed, are _you_ one who hates all Americans?"

"No. I am not."

"Then, I do not care what others think. I would not wish to lose you, hermano, but I love Tim, and this is the world he can live in. I have made sacrifices to stay, but they are sacrifices I am willing to make." She smiled gently. "I could only wish that you were closer to us. And perhaps my friends in Marrakech as well. This is a choice _I_ have made. Tim did not force me. He never would. When I hid myself from him in Morocco, he did not even try to force me then. He accepted the pain I gave him...and when I realized how much I love him, I came here and he accepted my apology and accepted me coming back into his life. He wants me to be happy and I am, Ahmed. I am so happy."

"If you were not, I would not leave you here."

Zahara smiled.

"Then, let those who hate keep hating if they wish. There are some here who hate all Muslims. There are some who hate all Mexicans. There are some who hate all who are not like them. But they are not the majority. The majority are people who will talk if there is a chance to understand, who are just living their lives as they can. It can be hard, but it is worth it here. This is a young country and if it is not perfect, then, it is simply like every other country in the world. ...but my husband is here and that makes it perfect enough for me."

Ahmed took her hand and squeezed it tightly.

"Then, that is enough for me, as well."

"Good."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim jogged over to where Ellie was standing on the sidewalk. She looked surprised to see him, meaning that he had not been the reason she was coming here.

"Agent McGee, what are you doing here?" she asked.

"My wife just became a citizen today. I was at the ceremony."

"Your wife?"

Tim smiled at the surprised question. He knew that Ellie was still uncertain about him, even after the meetings they'd had over the last year as Tim had worked to improve the security on the NSA computers.

"Yes, I'm married," Tim said. "Are you?"

"You don't know?"

"I don't pry into people's lives just to satisfy my curiosity," Tim said. "I'll ask in person if I want to do that."

"I'm married," Ellie said, almost reluctantly. "What did you want?"

"I wanted to ask if you noticed me last week."

"I thought we would talk about that later, over email."

"We could, but it wouldn't take as long like this and it's just a short question."

"I didn't, but maybe I wasn't on."

"I can't verify that, but I try to make sure I do my hacking when you're on duty."

"Hacking? You weren't just getting on your usual way?"

"No. Anyone who wants to get in wouldn't be logging in. They'll try to get around the security set up."

"True."

"Agent Bishop, if I was trying to get in and do something wrong, I wouldn't be telling you that I tried, now would I."

Ellie reddened, just slightly.

"I still don't know exactly what to make of you, Agent McGee."

"Just think of me as an unofficial employee."

"I don't think that will help, but no, I didn't notice you at all."

"All right. That gives me some coding to check on. Thanks. I don't want to leave my wife waiting for too long. We need to go and celebrate."

"Well...congratulations, then."

"Thanks."

Tim smiled and headed back to Zahara and Ahmed.

"Sorry about that," he said. "I just needed to ask her a quick question. Now, are you ready to get some lunch?"

"That sounds wonderful," Zahara said.

"Good. Let's go."

They walked off together and their path took them right by where Ellie was standing. Tim could tell she was scrutinizing him and the people with him, trying to find some falsity in their behavior. And he knew she found nothing.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ahmed stayed one more day and then, Zahara had to bid farewell. It was hard for her to see him go, but Tim had suggested that Ahmed come and see them around Christmas if he could get the time off, and he also had suggested that maybe they could go to Cairo to see him the next year. Zahara was excited about both possibilities. Ahmed had welcomed the idea of them coming out to Cairo, but he wasn't sure about Christmas because he couldn't always get the time off and he was still building up his savings. But he did appreciate the offer.

All in all, it had been a successful visit. The evening after Ahmed's departure seemed very quiet.

"Did you mean it?" Zahara asked as they sat together on the couch.

"Mean what?" Tim asked.

"That we could go to al-Qahira to see Ahmed next year."

"Yes. If I can get the time off..." He smiled a little weakly. "It would be the first time I've been to that part of the world voluntarily. Maybe I could actually enjoy it."

Zahara cupped her hand on Tim's cheek, seeing that slight darkening of his eyes that always indicated his mind moving onto darker memories.

"You could see the pyramids," she said, softly.

"That would be cool. I've never gone sightseeing, except for a few places in Morocco."

Zahara kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They went to bed and both fell asleep quickly.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

DC was finally in view. She made her way home, not wanting to be seen by anyone before she was ready to be seen. She knew that she had no real experience with this stuff, but she was extremely cautious as she approached her home. She had no reason to believe that they would be watching the house when she was sure that they had intended her to die in the cabin, but she didn't want to tempt fate.

After a careful look around the neighborhood, she hurried to the house and picked up the hidden key in the hydrangea bush. Then, she let herself inside and walked through the house in the dark, making sure to stay away from the windows. She didn't want anyone to know she was there, and she didn't want her neighbors to think anyone had broken in.

She took a shower in complete darkness and then walked to the bedroom and sat down on the bed.

For a long moment, she sat where she was, motionless, feeling the yawning emptiness of the house.

Then, she lay down on her side, grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her, sobbing.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The sounds pulled Zahara out of a deep sleep. She rolled over and saw Tim shifting around in his sleep, making strange noises. Then, before she could do anything, Tim sat up quickly, breathing heavily. She watched in silence as he ran his hands through his hair and then got out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. After a few seconds, she heard the water go on.

It didn't happen every night. It didn't even happen _most_ nights. But it did still happen and it was these times that knowing what Tim had gone through frightened her a little bit. She wasn't scared of Tim himself but just of what people had done to him. Things that had affected him so deeply that a dream of them could still bother him after all this time. It was in these moments that she was grateful for the CIA guards rather than resigned to them.

After a few more seconds, Zahara decided to get out of bed and see if she could help. She couldn't always. Sometimes, he was too wound up to sleep again for a while, but other times, he would go back to bed and she could get him to sleep eventually.

She walked into the bathroom and saw Tim's shadowy figure leaning over the sink.

"Tim?" she said just loudly enough to be heard.

A single shaky breath was the only answer she got. She walked closer and touched his back. He tensed under her touch.

"Tim," she said again.

She had learned that, most of the time, turning on the light only made things worse in these situations. She didn't know exactly why, but many of Tim's nightmares were made worse by suddenly turning on the light.

"Come to bed," she said.

Still no response.

Zahara leaned around him and turned off the water. Then, she took Tim by the hand and gently pulled him back into the bedroom. He came with her, still not speaking, likely because he didn't want her to know just how frightened he was.

He walked back to bed and got back under the covers. Zahara did the same.

"Will you sleep?" she asked.

"No." It was a barely a whisper.

"Very well."

Zahara urged him to lay down and she began to massage his back, feeling the rough scars from shrapnel that marred his skin. It was a gentle touch. She didn't want to rub too hard, just enough that he could feel her there with him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered after a few more minutes of silence. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"It is all right. Just relax," Zahara said.

She continued to rub his back until she felt him start to calm down, the tension easing off. Then, she urged Tim to roll over and face her and she hugged him.

"I am here, Tim," she said. "I am with you. You are not alone."

Tim's arms tightened around her.

"That's what makes all this worth it," he whispered. "I love you."

His shaking ebbed to nothing as they lay in each other's arms and Zahara rolled over so that Tim could hold her and feel her close to him. She felt his heart thudding in his chest, and it was beginning to slow to a regular rhythm. They didn't speak to each other again, but she knew he was glad to have her close.

So she fell asleep in his arms.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim woke up to his alarm with his arms still around Zahara. Quickly, he released her and rolled over to turn off the radio. Then, he rolled back and saw Zahara looking at him with concern. He smiled a little.

"I'm okay," he said.

"Did you sleep again?"

"Yeah. It took some time, but I did sleep."

Zahara sat up and crossed her legs.

"What did you dream of? That was bad. Very bad. I think it was worse than any so far."

"Just...the same old," Tim said. He'd never been very specific about his dreams. He didn't like talking about them.

"Please, Tim," Zahara said. "Please, tell me. I know you don't want to, but please. I want to know what it is that makes you so afraid."

"It's light," Tim said, softly. "Just light. The worst dreams are all about the light."

"Why light?"

"Do we have to talk about this now?" Tim asked.

"No, but I wish you would. It would help me understand. Perhaps, it would help you, also."

Tim smiled. He liked that Zahara was honest. She wanted to know but it wasn't urgent.

"When all this started, I was tortured...but I was also drugged so that I wasn't thinking clearly. And the room they kept me in was very bright...and..." Tim closed his eyes for a moment, feeling that pain anew.

"And what, Tim?"

"And they would give me electric shocks through some contacts they attached to my back. I still have the scars from that, too. But I was so... I was out of my mind, and to me, it was the light that was causing my pain. I know that it wasn't the light, that it was the people who took me, but when I dream of it..." He closed his eyes again, hating that he could still remember the insanity with such clarity. "...when I dream of it, it's always the light and the pain."

Zahara leaned forward and took Tim's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Is this every time?"

"No. There are other nightmares, but the light is always the worst. I don't know why when there are worse things that happened, but in the nightmares... Nothing is worse than the light."

Zahara scooted over and hugged Tim again.

"I am sorry that you still have those dreams. I wish I could...banish them for you."

Tim smiled. "I wish you could, too, but I don't have them as often as I did, and at least, now, I know they're just dreams, not reality."

"Yes, but that is not enough. I wish you to be free of that."

"So do I, Zahara, but I don't know that I ever will be completely. It's just too much to dismiss. The only way it could happen is if I could forget all that or have it not have happened." Tim pulled back from her hug so he could look her in the eye. "And meeting you is compensation enough for some bad dreams. If my life hadn't taken that path, I would never have found you."

Zahara smiled, but he could see the sadness in her eyes. He knew that he couldn't tell her not to think about it, but he wished that he could.

"Really, Zahara, while the dreams are bad, they don't linger beyond the night. Right now, I feel almost normal again." He smiled. "And I need to get moving so I can still get a run in before work."

"I don't like to see your eyes dark," Zahara said, tracing the scars around his eye with her finger. "I have noticed from the first time we spoke that they go dark when you are remembering the past."

"Are they dark now?" Tim asked.

"No, but they were when you told me of your dream."

"But now, it's fine. Don't worry about it, Zahara. Really. Don't worry. It is just a dream and that's something I know."

"Good."

Tim nodded and got off the bed. He quickly changed into his running clothes, got Jethro and headed out to run. Instead of driving anywhere, he just decided to run around the immediate area. There were sidewalks all the way along and he knew his CIA guards were around.

He didn't spend too much time running. Instead, he just did a couple of miles and then headed back home. He'd have to tell Zahara to give Jethro an extra long walk in the afternoon to make up for the abbreviated run this morning.

When he got inside, he could smell his coffee, but he was surprised by something else. Instead of Zahara's usual breakfast, there was a box of dinosaur cereal with a bowl. Yes, there was a pastry in addition, but Tim couldn't remember the last time Zahara had willingly eaten cereal of any kind, let alone Tim's preferred dinosaurs. He went into the bedroom and Zahara was just coming out of the bathroom.

"What's the occasion?" he asked.

She smiled.

"I thought you might like some..." she paused for a second. "...nostalgia for breakfast. You said it made you happy because you thought of being a child."

Suddenly, without warning, Tim felt his throat tighten ominously. He swallowed the lump and he walked over to Zahara and kissed her deeply. She did not complain about his being sweaty.

"Thank you," he said.

It wasn't about the cereal. It was about the intention behind it.

"You're welcome."

Tim went into the bathroom to shower. He hurried through, stopping only to put on the khamsa Ahmed had given him and tuck it under his shirt, and then came out and found that Zahara had dished out his cereal, even having some herself, although not very much. Instead, she had a larger pastry and Tim's was slightly smaller. He smiled again and sat beside her. They ate in silence, but it was a rich and full silence, needing no words.

"You're dancing today, aren't you?" he asked as they finished eating.

"Yes. And Michelle said that they would be taking me out to lunch to celebrate becoming an American."

"That's great. I'll be home on time unless..."

"...you have a case. I know. I will see you tonight."

Tim kissed her quickly and headed out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Zahara hated seeing Tim leave that morning. She knew he was dissembling to some degree, and she accepted that he didn't want to talk about it too much. It was just that she didn't like seeing him reduced to silent trembling just from a dream. He was so strong most of the time. It troubled her that he could be so frightened by what he dreamt. She didn't think less of him for it. She just worried about it.

Suddenly, she felt wet on her hand. She looked down and smiled.

"Hello, Jethro," she said. "Do you worry about him, too?"

Jethro barked once and then trotted over to the balcony door, asking to be let out. Zahara took a breath and exhaled loudly.

"Yes, I will let you out there," she said. "But you will have to come inside when I leave. I will take you for a long walk when I come home."

Jethro jumped around a little and was happy to settle out on the balcony for a while. He didn't seem to mind how small it was. He just liked being outside. At least, that was the conclusion Zahara had come to.

She had some time before she would be going to dance, so she decided to call Fatima. Perhaps Khadija would be there, too, and she could speak to both of them at once.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

He had always been extraordinarily good at resisting torture. Once, when he'd just been a regular agent, he and some others were being stupid and betting on who could resist pain the longest. He had won by a long shot. No one else had come even close to resisting for as long as he did.

They all thought he just didn't feel it, that maybe his nerves weren't as sensitive as theirs.

That wasn't the case. He felt it. He just didn't show it.

Once, he had been caught and held for nearly a month. He had resisted all that time. Nothing they'd done had come even close breaking him.

He had felt the pain and chosen to ignore it. He had moved his mind into something else. Like everything else in his life, he had simply allowed them to think he felt nothing.

Now, things were different. The pain he had was so much more intense than anything that they could possibly do to him that what they had tried so far just made no difference to him. It all paled in comparison to the pain he already felt. Nothing could be worse.

The door opened and he opened his eyes. Was it worth engaging? Not really, but he lifted his head anyway. Too many years of experience. He couldn't _not_ try to find out what was going on...even though he didn't really care.

"Who are you?" he asked, speaking for the first time in all the days they'd held him. "I have a good memory and I don't recognize you."

The man leaned down.

"You've never met me. So you shouldn't recognize me, although I know who you are."

No accent. Not even a slight one that would indicate a different country of origin which might be hidden. That was almost a relief. He was being held by a fellow American.

That meant it was personal, not business. Again, it was almost a relief.

"You don't seem to mind being here," the man said.

"Whatever you want from me, you won't get it."

"Everyone can be broken, Director."

So they wanted something, even if they weren't getting around to it very quickly. They must be assuming that no one would miss him. ...and it was true, since Tamara was dead.

"Not a director. Haven't been for years."

"That doesn't matter."

"Maybe not. But you've already failed. You just don't know it."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I'm already broken. Just not in the way you were expecting. You can't make me any worse than I am, and you can't offer any reward or promise of things being better if I cooperate. Nothing can improve my situation. Nothing. You've done the worst. Nothing else even matters."

He lost his energy all of a sudden and let his head thunk back to the floor.

"You broke me when you left my wife to die in that cabin. There's no way to compensate for that loss. I'm broken."

"You don't look like it."

"No, I don't."

"We'll see."

He smiled humorlessly.

"No, you won't see. Your kind never does."

"Well, we'll see how much more you can take."

"Go right ahead."

He was dragged out of the room again.

He didn't care.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

When Tim got to NCIS, he walked over to Willard Park instead of going straight inside. He had a few minutes before he needed to get to work. He sat down on a bench and pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number.

" _Dr. Hicks."_

"Hi, Dr. Hicks. It's Tim McGee."

" _Tim, nice to hear from you, but we don't have a session until next week."_

"No, we don't. I..." Tim took a breath and let it out.

" _What's wrong, Tim?"_

"Nothing major. It's... I had a nightmare last night and...and I was hoping I could talk to you about it, today."

" _Let me see if I have any free time, Tim. Just a moment."_

"Okay."

There was a click and Tim was surprised to hear tinny hold music playing in his ear. He'd never been put on hold when calling Dr. Hicks before. He almost laughed at how incongruous that little moment was.

Then, Dr. Hicks was back.

"Nice music, Dr. Hicks."

" _What? Oh... I'm sorry, Tim. I didn't even think about that hold music being on. I don't use it most of the time. It's awful stuff."_

Tim chuckled. "It's fine."

" _Okay. Do you have any time around noon?"_

"If nothing comes up, I'm entitled to a lunch break," Tim said. "But it's kind of far to your office from here."

" _What if I came down to the Yard? Would you mind not being as private?"_

"No, I wouldn't. It's... I don't think it's a big deal, but..."

" _...but you want to talk about it. That's fine. Why don't we plan on my being down there around noon and if you can't do it, just give me a call and let me know. All right?"_

"Thanks, Dr. Hicks. I really appreciate it."

" _No problem. I'll see you in a few hours."_

"Bye."

Tim hung up and then sat for a little while longer, thinking. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice Ducky coming up to him.

"Timothy?"

Tim jumped.

"Sorry to startle you, lad. What are you doing out here instead of inside beginning your day?" Ducky asked.

"Just thinking. Hey...can I ask you a question?"

Ducky sat down beside him.

"Certainly. Fire away."

"Do you believe in fate?" Tim asked, a little surprised at the question he'd just asked. The thought hadn't even really become conscious until he started speaking.

"No, I can't say that I do," Ducky said, sounding surprised himself. "May I ask why you were thinking about it?"

Tim smiled and nodded.

"Do you believe that people can know the future?"

"In what respect?" Ducky asked, in return.

"People get feelings that something is going to happen and they're right. They chalk it up to some kind of ability to see the future. Some people even make a living off claiming that they know what's coming. They call themselves prophets and..."

"Why is this coming up, Timothy?" Ducky asked, his brow furrowing.

"The only way I can see prophecy working is if everything is fated to happen. Then, the universe is like some sort of massive computer that's been programmed to evolve in a certain way. I'm here sitting on this bench talking to you because everything was programmed so that I'd be here at this place, at this moment."

Ducky sat back and Tim couldn't help wondering if Ducky found his sudden metaphysical interest strange.

"Well, in the sense you seem to mean it, I can understand that interpretation, but the first thing you mentioned, what we often call _intuition_ , I don't think it can be approached in the same way."

"Why not?"

"I believe that people do get intuitive feelings about events around them that do end up being correct, and I believe that some of them can be chalked up to nothing more than a subconscious analysis of one's life and surroundings. However, I truly believe that there are things people know that cannot be explained by programming the universe or subconscious observations. I believe, along with Shakespeare, that 'there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'"

Tim smiled.

"Now, what brought all this up to you?"

"It's going to sound silly."

"No, I'm sure it won't," Ducky said.

"Well...with the way my life has been the last decade and more... there have been times when I felt like something was going to happen, like something _bad_ was going to happen and every time I've felt that, I was right."

"And you've had another feeling?"

Tim nodded. "I had a nightmare last night. It was bad. Worse than I've had in a long time. I even woke up Zahara for the first time in a while. Now, I can't shake this feeling that it's telling me that something is coming."

"I see."

"And you think it's silly."

"No, I don't," Ducky said, quickly. He put a hand out and squeezed Tim's arm. "No, Timothy. I don't believe that you're being silly, and I don't think you should instantly dismiss that feeling. Perhaps this is a case of subconscious observation, or perhaps your mind is now attuned to events that have the potential to involve you. Do you feel that this is something bad?"

"Not necessarily, but I feel like it's not going to be simple...but that could just be paranoia."

"With the life you have lived, I can understand that feeling. But I don't think you should assume that something _is_ coming and you can't avoid it. You can choose to take it as warning or..."

"Or?"

"Or you can take the time to analyze why _else_ you might be having this intense dream."

Tim smiled. "Already done. I'm going to talk to Dr. Hicks this afternoon."

"Good. In that case, try to set it aside until then."

"Sounds like a good idea."

Ducky stood up.

"Then, why don't we head inside?"

Tim stood.

"That also sounds like a good idea."

Ducky smiled and gestured for Tim to precede him. They walked into the building together.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony grinned as Tim walked off the elevator.

"Ah, here he is!"

"Do not say it, Tony," Ziva said.

"Say what?" Tony asked, innocently. "Good morning, Probie! How was your first night with an American citizen? Or rather _second_ night? As good as the first?"

Tim raised an eyebrow at him which spoke eloquently about his feelings on Tony's question.

"A gentleman never tells," he said, but there was something else in his expression that wasn't just playing around.

"Is something wrong?" Ziva asked. Obviously, she'd seen it, too.

"No," Tim said, his brow furrowing. "Why?"

"You seemed a little upset," Tony said.

Tim sighed and shook his head. "No. I just had a nightmare last night. It was pretty intense and... and I'm having a hard time setting it aside."

"What did you dream?" Ziva asked.

Tim shrugged. A sure sign he didn't want to get into it.

"Just my usual. A little worse than usual, but still my usual. I'm going to talk to Dr. Hicks about it this afternoon, so long as nothing comes up during lunch."

Tony looked at Ziva for a second and knew she had the exact same thought he did.

"Unless we're in a shootout during our usual lunch hour, nothing will come up," Tony said.

Tim's eyebrow went up again.

"Guys, you don't have to worry so much. It was just a dream."

"Yes, and you will just have time to talk to Dr. Hicks so it stays just a dream," Ziva said, firmly.

A few different expressions flitted across Tim's face and Tony couldn't tell if he was irritated at being coddled or touched that they cared. Maybe Tim didn't know how he felt, either.

He was saved from having to decide by Gibbs' entrance. They all got down to business, mostly looking through a cold case that Gibbs really wanted solved, but Tony was sure that Gibbs would have heard the conversation. He heard everything else, and everyone knew that he was a lot more careful about Tim's mental health than one might expect. Tim didn't say anything to Gibbs about his appointment, and Gibbs didn't mention it, either, but nothing came up and, around noon, Tim excused himself without saying anything about why and left the bullpen.

After he was gone, Ziva looked at Tony.

"He has not mentioned any problems with dreams in months," she said. "Do you think it could be a problem?"

"I don't know," Tony said. "But he's talking to Dr. Hicks, _and_ he didn't seem _that_ upset."

"He can hide things if he needs to, Tony."

"But does he need to? If it was just a dream, is there something that _needs_ to be hidden?"

Suddenly, Ziva smiled slightly.

"So you are not worried about him?"

Tony smiled back. "I didn't say that."

"So you are?"

"I didn't say that, either."

"What _do_ you say?"

"I say that we've been working on this cold case all morning. We don't have anything pressing right now. So why don't we go and get something for lunch? We can buy something for McGee, too, in case he doesn't get a chance to get lunch."

Ziva looked at her computer and then nodded.

"That sounds good to me."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim walked outside, unsure about whether or not he appreciated Tony's assurance that nothing would keep him from meeting with Dr. Hicks. On the one hand, it was nice that he could depend on it. On the other hand, it was like Tony thought he couldn't handle himself. Tim knew that he'd had problems in the past...and that, if he was honest, he still had some problems. It was just that he wanted to ignore that fact, and usually, he could and did. It was times like these that he couldn't, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Tim?"

Tim looked over and saw Dr. Hicks limping toward him. He had to suppress the feeling of guilt that he'd made Dr. Hicks walk more than he normally would be when it was clear that he was hurting. He smiled.

"My team decided that I was going to make it," Tim said.

"Good for them. Where would you like to sit?"

"Do you mind staying outside?"

"Not at all. As long as I can sit," Dr. Hicks said. Then, he gave Tim a knowing look. "And it's not your fault that I'm limping."

Tim smiled and didn't comment.

They walked over to Willard Park and sat down on a bench.

"Now, Tim, tell me what happened."

"It was the same dream of light. I can't remember that anything was really different," Tim said.

"But something must have been if it bothered you more and you wanted to talk to me about it."

Tim nodded.

"It's just that it seemed so much more intense, like I was experiencing it for the first time, not the millionth." He sighed. "I don't know what to say about it, but it scared me so bad that I woke up Zahara and I couldn't stop shaking for a long time. I was awake for more than an hour."

Dr. Hicks was listening intently and when Tim stopped talking, he stayed silent. Tim was used to that. He knew that sometimes, Dr. Hicks had to think about it.

"How long has it been since you last had that particular dream?"

Tim shook his head. "I don't know. It's been a while. All of the nightmares have been less since..." He reddened.

"Since what?" Dr. Hicks asked.

"Since I married Zahara."

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact, it makes a lot of sense. And actually, I think your reaction to this dream makes sense as well."

"Why? Why would I be so much more upset about it when I know what the dream is?"

"For the simple reason that you haven't had it lately. It's like medication. Your body builds up a tolerance for it and you have to take more to get the same result. If you do the right thing, you stop taking it and go on with your life. However, if you need to take that same medication again, say a year later, the effect of that medicine will be much stronger than it was when your body had a tolerance for it. It's been a long time since you had that dream and you've forgotten how it felt to have it, at least, you've forgotten enough that, when it shows up again, your mind isn't ready for the emotions tied to that dream and you react very strongly to it."

"How do I get rid of it?"

"You may not, Tim," Dr. Hicks said and smiled sympathetically. "I know that's not what you want to hear, but it's true. You have gone through so much that I wouldn't be surprised if you have to deal with occasional nightmares for a long time. But even if you do, you've already conquered them. You know that they're only dreams. You know that they won't make reality any different. You have a chance to lessen their hold."

"How?" Tim asked. "After all this time, I would think that I'd have got rid of them or at least got over reacting to them like I did."

"You know what, Tim? I still have nightmares about what happened to me, sometimes. That was more than thirty years ago, and I still get the occasional nightmare."

Tim sighed and rested his elbows on his knees.

"It doesn't have to be that dramatic," Dr. Hicks said, smiling. "They wake me up, but I go back to sleep, _knowing_ that they're just dreams."

"It's just that...I know that it bothers Zahara when I have the nightmares. It scares her a little, not because I do anything to her, but because... it shows a life that isn't...normal, not even for her. I don't like reminding her that her husband isn't normal."

"Have you told her what you dream?"

"Some of it. Not all."

"To protect her or yourself?"

"Mostly me. She pushes for me to tell her more. Sometimes, I do, but sometimes, I just want to hide it away."

Dr. Hicks nodded and thought for a few seconds.

"Okay, Tim. I think what you need to do is not stress about the nightmares. I know you will, but if you work on _not_ stressing, over time, they'll lessen in intensity, but if you start dreading them, each one will be worse. And this is my suggestion. You won't like it, but I think it will help you in the long run."

Tim looked at Dr. Hicks. "What is it?"

"I know that you sometimes can tell that you'll have the nightmares. When you can, tell Zahara _before_ you go to bed. Let her comfort you in advance. Sometimes, that might even be enough to keep them away. I know you don't want to do that, but remember that she's your wife. You love her and she loves you. She wants to help you. Let her. You know she's strong enough for it."

"I know."

"Good. Then, follow through on it. If you don't know, then, that's fine. You shouldn't pretend, but if you can tell that it'll likely happen, let her know."

Tim felt himself tense at the suggestion. Dr. Hicks could clearly tell.

"Tim, this is the next step. You've gone really far already, but you can get further than you are. That means opening up to the person who sees you in your most vulnerable state, trusting that she won't abandon you, that she won't be put off by that part of you."

"I don't want her to know all of that."

"I'm not saying that you have to give her every gory detail. I'm just suggesting that you should tell her more than you have, since it sounds like you're telling her as little as you can get away with."

"Right."

"Was there anything else?"

Tim took a breath and shook his head.

"Nothing that can't wait until next week. Thanks. Thanks for making the trek down here just to talk to me."

"I had the time, Tim," Dr. Hicks said. "If I hadn't, I would have suggested that you come to me later in the day."

Tim smiled and then looked at Dr. Hicks' feet. He knew that they'd been hurting him more lately.

"Do you need help back to your car?"

"No. It's not as bad as that," Dr. Hicks said. "Leave me a _little_ of my pride." But he smiled as he spoke. "You can go and eat some lunch."

"Thanks again and see you next week."

"See you."

They shook hands and Tim watched as Dr. Hicks limped away. He didn't say it aloud, but every time he saw Dr. Hicks walking, he was grateful anew that his feet had healed. He knew that Dr. Hicks had a lot of pain he dealt with, even though he denied it being very bad.

"Hey, Tim!"

Tim turned around and saw Tony and Ziva walking toward him with bags.

"You want lunch?" Tony called. "We got some for you, too."

"Yeah. I'm coming. Thanks."

He went inside with them and had lunch. Then, they all got back to work on the cold case files.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Tim headed out of NCIS, ready to go home and, hopefully, have a good night's sleep this time.

"Timothy!"

Tim stopped and looked back.

"Yeah, Ducky?"

Ducky came up and walked with him out of the building.

"How was your meeting with Dr. Hicks?"

Tim smiled at the concern.

"It was fine. Dr. Hicks suggested that one of the reasons it seemed so intense is because I'm not used to having the dreams anymore."

"That could definitely be a factor. Did you tell him about your feeling?"

Tim shook his head. "No. I decided that I'd just wait and see what life brings. Besides, I'd already talked about that with you." He grinned.

Ducky chuckled. "I'm hardly at the same level as Dr. Hicks."

"No, but what I said to you wasn't really about psychology, at least, not to me. It was something else and I figured that I'd already addressed it once. If the feeling doesn't go away after a few days, then, I'll bring it up. I have my regular session with him next week anyway."

"How long will you continue?" Ducky asked, and Tim could tell it was simply curiosity.

"Long term. More than that, I can't say, but I figure that I've had enough assaults on my psyche to last a lifetime. So if I decide that I need help for a lifetime, that's acceptable."

"Not only acceptable, but admirable that you can open yourself that much and can see when you need help."

There was a slightly bitter twist to Tim's smile. He felt it.

"I've lots of practice, Ducky."

"I know that, lad, and I'm sorry for it, but it's a wonderful thing to see you so settled now."

"It definitely feels better." Then, Tim looked at his watch. "I'd better get going. I don't like making Zahara wait for dinner if I don't have to."

"Then, by all means, be on your way," Ducky said, quickly. "I'll see you in the morning."

"I'll be here."

Tim and Ducky parted ways and Tim headed for his car, glad that he had that kind of support, people he could always rely on.

Before he started driving, though, his phone started ringing. He answered quickly, hoping that it wouldn't take long. At this time of day, he didn't like to talk and drive.

"Tim McGee," he said.

" _Hey, Tim. It's Daniel."_

"Daniel?" Tim repeated in surprise. "I haven't heard from you in months. What's up?"

" _Actually, I'm in D.C. for the next couple of weeks and I was hoping that we could catch up."_

"Absolutely," Tim said. He thought for a few seconds and then, added, "Actually, why don't you join Zahara and me for dinner tonight? I'm just heading home from work, myself, and Zahara always makes tons."

" _Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude."_

"You wouldn't be. Zahara and I are heading toward our second anniversary, don't forget. We eat together a lot. Pretty much every day."

" _You sound happy about that."_

"I am. Very happy. But what brings you to D.C.?"

" _Actually, it's a stopover to make some reports, give some in-person updates. I was in Nebraska."_

Tim heard some sadness in Daniel's voice and he guessed what it was.

"Your dad?"

" _Yeah. The funeral was yesterday. He died last week."_

"Oh, I'm sorry, Daniel."

There was a sigh. _"Yeah. Me, too. But at the same time, it was probably best for him. He'd had another stroke just last month and he didn't know anyone, couldn't move. He was miserable. And I did get him to Marrakech one last time before he died. And I got to say good-bye."_

"That's something. I'd love to talk. Please, come over tonight. No reason to eat alone when you could eat in company. Zahara will probably even have mint tea for you."

Daniel chuckled. _"Not for you?"_

"She knows I don't like it. Sometimes, I'll have a cup with her, but she knows it's just to keep her company."

" _Well, I wouldn't mind some mint tea. Didn't get any of that at home."_

"Do you still have my address?"

" _Yeah, I do. I'll just meet you there?"_

"Yep. I'll call Zahara and tell her to expect you if you get there first."

" _All right. See you in a few."_

"Yeah. Bye."

Tim hung up and smiled. It would be good to see Daniel again, even as he felt sorry for the loss that had brought him stateside.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

They dropped him in the room, clearly frustrated at their lack of success. They knew he felt the pain. It was impossible with what they were doing to him that he wouldn't, but he refused to react in any way, as much as possible. He couldn't move himself for the time being, so he lay where he was. Unmoving. He breathed irregularly and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. It was the only expression of his physical pain.

As he lay on the floor, he closed his eyes. It had been a long time since he'd needed to rely on the escape from his pain. Now, was a good time for it, though. Maybe he'd make it this time.

He kept his eyes closed and slowly, he managed to conjure up the image that he had always used to escape. He was standing on a farm, walking along a canal. The water flowed downstream and he walked in the same direction. His pace was slow and faltering, but he knew there was someone waiting for him at the end of the road, just out of sight. The road was rutted and overgrown, but it was straight. Right now, there was a strong wind blowing in his face, keeping him from making much progress, even ripping the air from his mouth, making it difficult to breathe.

With his eyes closed, he was able to forget about the hard floor, the pain, the guilt, everything. All that mattered was walking toward his destination. When he'd been a captive before, it was how he'd avoided giving in to the questions. He'd never reached his destination that time. He'd been rescued. This time, however, he wasn't sure that there was any reason to believe that anyone would realize he'd been taken.

Since Tamara was dead.

His steps along the canal faltered and he began to feel the pain again. He pushed away the reality and pursued his path.

The path led away from the pain. Toward oblivion.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim beat Daniel home, and he was relieved that Zahara really had picked something that would have lots of leftovers. She had made couscous with vegetables and chicken, and she'd made oodles of it. When Daniel arrived, he was happy to have a Moroccan meal far away from Morocco. They spent a nice evening, eating and talking. Then, they cleaned up the kitchen and sat down to talk a little more.

"So will you go back to Marrakech?" Tim asked.

"Of course," Daniel said. "Nothing's changed about why I'm there."

"Oh, I know. I just wondered if..." Tim paused, thinking about how to say it. "...if maybe being there was more living out your dad's dream than your own."

Daniel smiled and shook his head. "No. I love it there, and I know that Dad would be happy about my being there, but only if I was happy, too. Mom said that she'd come out to visit next year. James wants to bring his wife out, too. I'll have to space out the visits, but now that Mom doesn't have to worry about taking care of Dad, she'll have more free time. Hopefully, not _too_ much."

Tim nodded. "Oh, did I tell you that Zahara became a citizen?"

"No!" Daniel said. He looked at Zahara. "Congratulations. When did this happen?"

"Just on the weekend," Zahara said. "My brother came to see it. Now, I am waiting for the chance to get my passport and then, next year, Tim has promised that we will go to visit Ahmed and maybe go back to Morocco if it is safe. ...but _only_ if it is safe."

"Really?" Daniel asked, looking at Tim with a grin. "You're going to venture out?"

"Not all at once, but yeah. Eventually," Tim said.

Daniel chuckled at Tim's hedging. They continued to talk about Zahara's experiences, where she'd gone and what she still needed to see. Finally, Daniel looked at his watch and groaned good-naturedly.

"Oh, I've got to get going. I have a meeting first thing tomorrow morning and I don't want to be groggy for it. It might make my employers question what I'm doing."

Tim stood as Daniel prepared to leave.

"I hope you'll come by again while you're here. It's been great to see you."

"Absolutely. Especially if you keep cooking Moroccan food," Daniel said, smiling at Zahara.

"Tomorrow, is the day I try something American. I am going to try making salmon. I have never had it before."

"Cool. Do _you_ do any cooking, Tim?" Daniel asked.

"On the weekends," Tim said. "Or when I take a day off. Otherwise, we'd just end up eating takeout every night."

"Of course. Typical."

Tim smiled.

"Let us know when you can come over."

"Will do."

Daniel walked out and Tim locked the door behind him. Then, he turned back to Zahara smiled.

"You were happy to see him," Zahara said.

"Yeah. I haven't since the wedding. It's hard having friends so spread out across the world. I know you feel that, too."

Zahara nodded. "Yes. I wish Khadija could come here again. Fatima has come more often, but Khadija is not so free to travel."

Tim nodded. "Next year, when you have your passport."

"I believe you, Tim. If it is safe. How are you feeling?"

"Better than last night. I talked to Dr. Hicks today and he said that a lot of it is just that I'm not used to the nightmares anymore. So when I have them, they're worse than they would be otherwise."

"So this is a good thing?" she asked.

"Maybe. I don't know if I think so," Tim said.

"I don't know, either," Zahara said.

"I'm not really ready to go to bed yet. Are you?"

"No. Not with Daniel coming here. Would you like to watch a movie?"

"Yeah. Sure."

They both changed into pajamas and then, with some popcorn, they began watching one of the classics from Tim's childhood: _Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory_.

And they both fell asleep watching the movie.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim's phone started ringing, pulling him out of a sound, albeit rather uncomfortable sleep. Zahara was leaning on his arm and it was numb. He sat up, trying not to jostle Zahara _too_ much, but he had to move her to get to his phone.

"Mā hāthā?" she mumbled, beginning to wake up.

"It's just my phone. I hope it's not a case. I hate it when they start late," Tim grumbled. He shifted over so that he could reach his phone.

"McGee," he said, stifling a yawn.

" _Agent McGee?"_

That was _not_ the voice he had expected.

"Yes. Who is this?" Tim asked, feeling _much_ more awake.

" _It's Tamara Carew. Please. Can I come in?"_

"Come in?"

" _I'm outside your building, but I don't know your door code or your apartment number. Levi... Levi had your phone number and address. So I'm using it to call you. Please. Please, let me in."_

She sounded worried, on the edge of becoming frantic.

"Of course. The door code is 435. I'm in apartment 515. Come up."

" _Thank you. So much."_

She hung up and Tim looked at Zahara feeling some confusion. He knew it showed.

"What is going on, Tim?" Zahara asked. "Not a case?"

"I don't think so. That was Levi Carew's wife...or ex-wife. She seemed afraid and was asking to come in."

"What is she afraid of?"

"I have no idea, but I didn't want to leave her outside at..." He looked at the clock. "...at one in the morning. I don't know if she'll need a place to sleep..."

"She is welcome, of course," Zahara said. "I will get the spare room ready, just in case."

"Thanks."

Only a minute later, there was a knock at the door. Tim walked over quickly and checked through the peephole, first. He had his gun in hand. Just in case.

He opened the door.

Tamara was alone, but Tim was shocked at how she looked. There were shallow abrasions on her face and hands. Mostly, though, she seemed terrified.

"What happened?" Tim asked.

"Please, let me inside, first," Tamara said, sounding almost teary. "I'll tell you why I'm here."

Tim stood aside and Tamara came in, limping a little bit. Tim locked the door behind her and then walked over to the couch. He gestured for her to sit.

"Please, sit down," Tim said. "What's going on? Where's Levi?"

"I don't know," Tamara said, tears coming to her eyes. " _That's_ why I'm here."

"What do you mean?" Tim asked. "I haven't seen him since..."

"No. It's not that. Someone's taken Levi. And...and they tried to kill me in the process. They destroyed the cabin we were in. I think I was supposed to die in the fire, but I got out. I heard Levi calling for me. But they took him."

"Who?"

"I don't know. I just know that they took him, and I had to get back here, but I didn't have any money. The car was burned out. I didn't dare ask for help. What if someone was still around, looking for me? So I walked, except for the last fifty miles or so when I got a ride and then I walked another two miles to our house. It's been days, almost a week, but I knew I had to get back here. And then, I couldn't think of anyone else that Levi would trust to help him. Except you."

"But if he's been abducted, you could go to the police. No matter who he is, kidnapping is a crime," Tim said. "The police would investigate."

Tamara shook her head. "I know, but at the same time, this is not something normal, not something I think would be for regular police. If I had been killed, no one would ever have known that Levi was gone, unless Bri started looking for us, but she knows that we go on these trips and she might not worry for weeks. Agent McGee, I think that this is something that is bigger than just a kidnapping. ...and I'm afraid for what's going to happen to him, what might already be happening to him. ...and I'm sure he thinks I'm dead. I don't know if he could take that. Not now. I need help finding him."

Tim took a breath and sat back on the couch. He could see that Tamara was telling the truth as she knew it. She was injured. She looked like she was still in a bit of shock. If she had walked back to D.C. from wherever they'd been, it had taken her days to do it. But the plain fact of the matter was that Tim had no idea who would abduct the former director and try to kill Tamara in addition. He didn't know much about Levi's previous work as a CIA agent, only as a director. There were too many possibilities.

And yet...

He leaned forward.

"Okay," he said. "I have no idea who would be part of this, but I know where I'll need to start, and I can't do this alone. With your permission, I want to call my boss and get his help. We'll keep this quiet, but there's no way I can do this without help."

Tamara thought about it for a few seconds.

"Your boss is that Agent Gibbs, right?" she asked.

"Yes."

Finally, she nodded.

"Okay. If that's what you need."

"I really do."

"Where will you start?"

"Back at the cabin. I'll need you to tell me where it is so we can go out there and see if there's any evidence. After days, there may not be anything left, but we can start there and see what there is to see."

"Okay."

"Good." Tim looked up and saw Zahara standing quietly by the door to the spare room. He smiled. "Tamara, this is my wife, Zahara."

Tamara turned and looked at Zahara and then she looked back at Tim and smiled for a moment. He could see that she remembered their conversation before he'd decided to propose.

Zahara walked over and knelt on the floor, gently taking Tamara's hands and examining the injuries.

"I am so sorry for what has happened to you," she said.

"Thank you," Tamara said.

"Please, come with me. You may sleep here, tonight. You will be safe here."

"Oh, I couldn't impose," Tamara said.

"Yes, you can," Zahara said. "You are tired. You are afraid. You need someone close by. Please, come. I will help you tend to your injuries and then, you can try to sleep."

She stood and held out her hand. Tamara nodded and let Zahara lead her back to the room. Zahara looked back once and Tim understood that she would stay with Tamara to help in any way she could get Tamara to accept. Then, the door closed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Tim sighed. He little relished this call, but he needed to make it now before anyone who might have been watching Tamara's movements thought to listen in on Gibbs' phone.

He knew they wouldn't be listening on his phone.

Quickly, he threw caution to the winds and dialed Gibbs' number. It rang a number of times before Gibbs finally picked up.

" _Gibbs."_ He didn't sound happy about it.

"Hey, Boss. I know it's early in the morning, but I need your help."

" _What's wrong, McGee?"_

"I'm fine. Don't worry about that, but I don't want to talk about it over the phone. Can you come over here?"

" _Your place?"_

"Yes."

" _Now?"_

"Yes. I don't think it's a good idea to wait."

" _I'll be over."_

"Thanks."

Tim hung up and sat where he was on the couch. While he waited, he thought about what could be the reason for the attack. As he had said, there were a lot of options for people who might want to attack Levi Carew, but while there were quite a few who might want him dead, how many would want to abduct him? And of those, how many would be willing to kill Tamara just to keep it a secret?

The door to the spare room opened and Zahara came out. She walked over to Tim and sat down beside him.

"What happened to her?" Zahara asked. "She was limping."

"Someone tried to kill her and, whoever they were, they took Levi with them."

"Then, he is alive?"

"I think there's a good chance, but if he is...there's something they want and we already know that they're willing to kill. Who knows what they'll be doing to him."

And suddenly, his own memories of torture washed over him and he shuddered and closed his eyes. After a moment, he felt Zahara's hand on his cheek, gently stroking the scars on his face.

"That is why you are helping him."

"Yeah, partly. But also because I told him I'd help if he ever needed me."

Tim opened his eyes and looked at Zahara.

"I am glad that you are helping," she said. "Tamara was very afraid. I think she is glad to be here."

"I think so, too. Will you mind having her here while we work on this?"

"Of course not. She may stay as long as she wants to."

"Good. Gibbs is coming over. I don't know if you want to stay up or go to bed, but I won't be sleeping for a while."

"I will stay up with you," Zahara said. "I may not be able to help, but I will... won't be sleeping."

Tim smiled. She was getting pretty good at the contractions involving negation. The others were still more difficult, just not natural for her yet.

After a few more minutes, there was a knock on the door.

Tim walked over, gun in hand again, and checked through the peephole. He sighed with relief when he saw it was Gibbs. He opened the door quickly.

"Boss. Thanks for coming."

Gibbs walked in, looking around for danger.

"We're safe, Boss," Tim said.

"Then, what is it?"

"A little while ago, Tamara Carew called me and begged me to help her."

"Help with what?"

"With finding who took Levi Carew and tried to kill her and blew up the cabin they were in."

For a long moment, Gibbs said nothing. He just stared at Tim, and Tim knew what Gibbs was thinking.

 _Why are you bothering with Carew?_

He could hear the words as if Gibbs had actually spoken them.

And so he responded to the unspoken words.

"Gibbs, they tried to kill an innocent woman. Tamara thinks that they wanted to kill her to keep anyone from realizing Levi was gone. Isn't that enough for you to put aside how you feel about him?"

"Is that why you want to help?"

Tim smiled and shook his head. "No, it's not. I want to help because I told Levi I would. If he needed help and I could do it, I said I would. ...and he said the same thing to me."

"He is a human being," Zahara said, suddenly. "Is that not enough?"

Gibbs looked at her in surprise, and typically, said nothing.

"What if the man, Suhayl, had decided that Tim was not important enough to save from those who tortured him? What if he had needed a _reason_ to save him? Would there be one, beyond that Tim was a human being who suffered? What would have happened to Tim if Suhayl had decided that there wasn't a good enough reason? Tim would have _died_."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at Tim.

"I had to tell her _some_ things, Gibbs. She's my wife."

Gibbs still didn't speak, and Tim knew why. Gibbs knew what the answer had to be, but he didn't _want_ that to be the answer. Levi had done too much for anyone at NCIS to want to help him just on the basis of common humanity.

"I had thought more of you, Agent Gibbs," Zahara said, sternly. "Whoever these men are who took Levi, they are not good men. They tried to kill someone who is innocent. She is in the bedroom, hopefully sleeping now. No matter what else, they are evil, and what they may do or what they have done to Levi Carew is wrong."

After another moment of silence, Gibbs looked at Tim.

"Well?" he asked.

"Well what?" Tim asked in return.

"What do you want to do?"

Tim was surprised.

"Me?"

"Your case, your lead."

Tim smiled a little. It had been a long time since that rule had been trotted out, and it had _never_ been applied to Tim himself. He had expected Gibbs to agree to help and take control as he usually did.

"You think Director Shepard will be okay with it _being_ a case?"

"Should have thought of that before you called me."

"Maybe, but I didn't."

"Doesn't matter. What do you want to do?"

"Tamara said she'd give me directions on how to get to the place where the cabin...was. I figured that there may not be much there, but that we have to start somewhere. Maybe they'll have left some evidence, something that we can use to narrow it down. Because there's no telling who might have done this or what the reason might be."

"You'll have to do something else, too."

"What's that?"

"Convince the team that you're right."

Tim smiled. "Honestly, Boss. I don't care if they agree. I'm doing this, with or without their help. And with or without _your_ help, too. I _want_ it and I'll probably be more likely to succeed if I have your help, but if I can't get it, I'm not going to waste time regretting it. I'm going to get to work."

"And if Jenny says no?"

"Then, I'm still going to do it. I may have to bribe Abby to run the samples, but I'll do it. I promised Levi that I'd help him."

"Since when is he _Levi_ to you?" Gibbs asked, eyebrow up.

"Since that was who he was trying to be," Tim said, seriously. "He wants to be Levi again. And that's a good thing. So I'm going to help as much as I can."

Another silence.

"What about you, Boss? If you don't want to help _him_ , will you help _me_? So that I can help him?"

"Come to NCIS before you head out there," Gibbs said. "And go to bed."

Tim grinned.

"Will do."

Then, Gibbs got up and left. Zahara walked over to join Tim.

"He does not seem happy about this."

"He's not. He doesn't want to help, but he will."

"Why?" Zahara asked. "I know you have said that there are things he has done that are wrong, but..."

"It's because Levi has made it hard to separate him from the things he's done. And that makes it hard to want to help him, but you're right and Gibbs knows it. No matter what else, Levi is a human being who is likely being hurt."

"But Levi did those things to _you_ , not to your team. And you are willing to help him."

Tim sighed. "No. He did those things to my team, too. They didn't have the physical or even the mental problems I did, but they had the pain of seeing me go through it."

"But it was worse for you."

Tim laughed a little. "Oh, I agree. It was."

"And you are willing to help him."

"But that's because I _wanted_ to get over it. My friends don't. They don't think he deserves it, and maybe he doesn't. I just don't care that he doesn't."

"I don't like that they may not help because of it."

"They'll help. If I ask them, they'll grumble, but they'll help."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

Zahara sighed. "I just want them to want to help someone who needs it."

Tim took Zahara by the shoulders and looked her in the eye.

"They are. It's just that it's me they're helping, not Levi. I'm going to ask them for help and they'll help me...and that will help him. It's not how you want it, but it'll still get what we want. Okay?"

Zahara nodded and then she smiled slightly.

"Are you tired?" she asked.

"No, but I should be. I'm going to _try_ to sleep."

"That sounds good."

They walked together to the bedroom and lay down.

Sleep came very slowly.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

He continued along the path. He could hear the water in the canal as he walked. Suddenly, he stepped in a hole and fell to the ground.

For a moment, he wasn't on the farm. He was back in reality where all the pain was, but he didn't want to be in reality. With effort, he forced the trappings of the real world to fall away again, leaving him walking along the canal. He got to his feet and began walking again, albeit at a much slower pace.

Voices intruded on his walk. He debated allowing enough reality to seep in that he could hear what was being said. Finally, he gave in.

" _How long are you going to keep this up? He doesn't even seem to feel it, except that his body reacts to what we're doing. But he doesn't."_

" _As long as it takes."_

" _For what? Until we start actually breaking bones or drawing blood, we're doing the same things over and over and it really isn't affecting him. You heard what he said."_

" _I heard. I don't believe it."_

" _He doesn't lie."_

" _I don't believe that, either."_

" _He doesn't lie. If there's anything about him that people actually know, it's that he doesn't lie."_

" _I'll get what I want."_

" _But what is that?"_

" _Not your concern. You'll get what you want when I get what I want. Keep on it."_

" _You're the boss."_

The voices were familiar. One of them was extremely familiar. He considered paying more attention, so that he could make an identification, but in the end, he decided it didn't matter. He refocused on the path and kept walking. It lasted a little longer until...

A startling swat across his face jolted him abruptly away from the farm and back into the pain. He looked around, almost surprised to see the walls and the same man as before staring at him. He could feel his lungs struggling to function and his heart was beating arrhythmically, out of time with the throbbing pain. Even with all that, however, it didn't even touch the pain of Tamara's death.

He wondered what would happen if he laughed.

 _What's the worst they could do? Kill me?_

He laughed.

And then gasped for breath.

"This is funny to you?"

"Yes," he managed to whisper. "I'm...not even here."

The man rolled his eyes and then looked away.

"Take him back to his cell. Won't do us any good if he dies too soon."

He laughed again.

"I'm already dead," he said, getting a bit more strength. "My body...just hasn't realized it yet."

There was no verbal response. Strong, unfriendly hands picked him up and dragged him back to the same room he'd been in before. They dropped him on the floor and left him there. He heard the lock turn.

He lay there for a few seconds and then got the energy to push himself onto his back. Just in case someone was still watching him, he laughed once more.

It really was ridiculous, but that was the way things went.

He could say with a fair degree of certainty that he probably deserved this, anyway. Maybe not from these people, but certainly, there were people for whom justice would be this kind of suffering.

But maybe he could find a way to end it sooner than they wanted. While he didn't care about much of anything, how fitting would it be if his last voluntary act was to get rid of any kind of vengeance by dying on his own terms?

Could he do it? Not right now, of course. He could barely move, and they were keeping him pretty weak. But maybe the opportunity would present itself. That meant staying in reality more.

It was a tradeoff. Which was more important? He didn't know just yet.

For the time being, he abandoned himself to his body's pains and tried to master it enough that he could sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Tamara heard a door slam and sat up abruptly in the bed. She looked around, for a moment, forgetting where she was. Then, she heard someone walking around outside the door and there was a soft voice singing in another language.

She remembered. It must be Zahara she could hear.

For a few minutes, she sat in the bed, listening to the simple song. She couldn't understand a single word of it, but she could hear the happiness in the voice. It made her heart ache to hear it, but at the same time, she was also happy to realize that Tim was truly trying to make a life for himself, that he wasn't isolating himself out of a misplaced desire to protect those he loved.

 _I can't stay in here forever,_ she thought to herself, finally.

Carefully, she got out of bed and limped to the door. Her leg hadn't yet recovered from the long walk...and the initial injury. Her feet were still sore, too. Quietly, she opened the door and saw Zahara in the kitchen. There was a book open on the counter and she was leaning over it while mixing something in a bowl. All the while, she was singing softly, not noticing anything else.

Tamara had seen her briefly at the wedding, but she and Levi hadn't stayed long and they hadn't gone to the reception. Just long enough to see the wedding itself. Tamara had been surprised to be invited and even more surprised that Levi had wanted to go. It had seemed really important to him. Now, looking at Zahara, Tamara was glad to see someone comfortable in her life. She had an air of innocence about her, although she couldn't imagine that Tim would have let himself pretend that there was no potential for danger in their lives together. She must be aware of the world her husband lived in, but somehow, she'd kept that innocence, and her voice was soothing.

"You sound lovely," Tamara said.

Zahara looked up, startled. Then, she blushed a little.

"I am sorry if I woke you," she said. "I was trying to be quiet."

"You didn't. It was the door, I heard."

Zahara grinned. "Tim slams the door all the time. I tell him that it will close without all that force, but he doesn't listen to me."

"What were you singing?"

"A song by Fairuz. She is a Lebanese singer."

"Oh. So it was Arabic, then?"

"Yes, Lebanese Arabic. It is called 'Habbaytak Bessayf'."

"What does that mean?"

"'I loved you in summer.' The song is about a woman who falls in love with a man who leaves her. She sings... Let me think of the English words..." She was silent for a few seconds. "'I loved you in summer. I loved you in winter. I waited for you in summer. I waited for you in winter. Your eyes are the summer. My eyes are the winter. Our meeting, darling...' No, it is _my_ darling. 'Our meeting, my darling, is beyond the summer and the winter.' It is a...sad song."

"Yes, it sounds like it, but your voice is lovely."

Zahara blushed again. "Thank you. I am not as good as Fairuz. She is one of the best Arabic singers I know of." Then, she looked back at her bowl. "I am making breakfast. It is a day for American food. Tim tells me that I...don't need to make breakfast every morning. He is happy with much less, but I like to do it, and I like to try new things."

"What are you making?" Tamara asked.

"Waffles. Tim made them for me once. They are different from what I would have in Morocco."

Tamara limped over to the counter and sat on a stool.

"Thank you for what you're doing for me," she said. "I can't tell you how hard it was to think I might have to do all this alone."

Zahara reached out and touched her hand.

"You need help. We can help. So we will."

"It's not always so simple."

"No, but for me, it is. I know that there are things about Levi Carew that people do not like, but he helped me and he has helped Tim, although I know he has hurt him, too. But Tim wishes to help, and if he wishes to help, then, I do not see that anyone else can say no."

"Oh, people can say no," Tamara said. "Levi has made it easy to do that. And he did it on purpose. I love him, but I'm not blind to what he's like."

"Yes, but Tim is sure they will not. And you may stay with us for as long as you need to. We have the room."

Tamara wanted to say no, that she'd be fine in her house, but the plain fact of the matter was that she was terrified at the prospect of being alone when her life could be in danger.

"Thank you," she said again. "Where is Agent McGee?"

"He is running. He always runs in the morning with his dog. He says it helps him wake up. He will probably be back soon. There is a bathroom just over there. If you would like to shower or something else, you can do so."

"Thanks."

Zahara looked at her intently for a few seconds.

"We are not really the same size. I am taller, but I think your shoulders are broader than mine. I am not sure that you would fit in my clothes, but it is too bad that you must keep wearing the same clothes."

"I did change once already. I've only been in these clothes for a day."

Tamara was surprised to see that Zahara still seemed bothered by it. For a few more seconds, she thought, and then, her expression lightened.

"I know. If you are willing to wear some sweats and a t-shirt for a few hours, I can wash your clothes. Then, you will have clean clothes for today until we know what will come next."

"Oh, I don't want you to go to all that trouble, Zahara."

"No, I want to do this for you. It is so little. The washer and dryer just require me to push the right buttons."

Tamara smiled.

"All right."

"If you will put the clothes outside the bathroom, I will get them washing quickly."

"You're very kind."

Tamara went into the bathroom, surprised that she felt so safe here with these people she barely knew.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim slowed to a walk and then turned around and made eye contact with his guard. He came up beside Tim and matched his pace. They walked side by side without looking at each other.

"Tamara Carew came to your building last night."

"Yes. I was wondering if you'd noticed her."

"We did."

"Any sign of someone following her?"

"None."

"She's in my apartment and will be for a while."

"Can I ask why?"

"Someone has abducted Levi Carew and tried to kill Tamara. She's asked for my help in finding him and I'm giving it. I know that the CIA can't run an investigation, but if you know anything about it, I'd like to be told."

" _I_ don't know anything about it, but I'll make that report."

"I'd appreciate it if you kept the report to a very small circle of people. When I have no idea who's responsible, I don't want to let people in on it if I don't have to."

"Understood. Are you going to make this official? A civilian, even if he is a former federal director, doesn't fall under the purview of NCIS."

Tim smiled. "Only as official as I have to make it. There's going to be a lot of averted eyes."

There was an involuntary chuckle.

"Director Morgan will know about this within the hour, at least, he will if you stop running."

Tim's smile widened to a grin. "Do you guys try to get out of this part?"

"Absolutely. We're spooks, not athletes."

Tim laughed.

"Is that everything?"

"For now," Tim said. "I'll head home."

"Good."

The man fell back as Tim began jogging again. He ran back to his car and then drove home. When he got inside, Zahara was running the waffle iron.

"What's in the wash?" Tim asked, hearing the machine going.

"Tamara's clothes. She don't...no, it is didn't."

"That's right."

"Didn't, doesn't, don't. English is so complicated. I _don't_ have to think of many different ways of saying _not_ in Arabic _or_ in Spanish."

"That's because you already know Arabic and Spanish. English is the language you're learning and the complications are what make it fun. It only took you two tries."

Zahara _tsk_ -ed at her mistake and then went on. "She _didn't_ bring any clothes with her and she will not fit in mine. So she will wear some of your sweats until her clothes are clean. They are too big, but it is better than nothing. Then, maybe you will know what will come next and she can get more clothes from her home or else we can buy her some."

"Sounds fine with me. Waffles?"

"As soon as you are clean."

Tim smiled and hurried back into the bedroom to shower and change. By the time he finished and came back out to the kitchen, Tamara had joined Zahara at the counter.

"Smells like waffles," Tim said.

Zahara smiled. "It has not changed since you went into the bedroom."

"Good."

Zahara portioned out waffles onto three plates and they ate without much conversation. Tim had questions, but he didn't want to ask them while Tamara was eating. It was clear that it had been a frightening and traumatic experience for her. Why ruin a meal with that?

As they finished, Tim looked at Zahara and widened his eyes for a moment. She smiled and nodded.

"I will clean up," she said. "You don't need to help, Tamara."

"I hate to leave you to clean up after me," Tamara said.

"Actually, I need to ask you for some details, if you can give them," Tim said.

Tamara nodded.

"I can see that you would need to know more. I may not be very helpful, though."

"Maybe not, but we never know if we don't ask. Come on over to the couch and I'll get what I can before I go to work."

"All right."

They walked over and sat down while Zahara took her time cleaning up the kitchen. Tim could tell that she was going as slowly as possible so that she could listen in, and he tried not to smile at her obvious eavesdropping.

"Okay. Do you and Levi go to that cabin often?" Tim asked, getting out a notebook to take notes.

"Fairly often. Levi likes getting away from people. He told me once that he had spent so many years in forced contact with people he hated that he wanted the chance to get away from them."

"How long would you generally stay?"

"About a month at a time. I didn't want us to stay longer because we'd be too tempted to stay forever," Tamara said, smiling.

"Is the cabin yours?"

"Yes. Officially, Levi bought it, not the two of us. But he bought it after we started this."

"Regular purchase?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean did he buy it in the usual way, through a realtor?"

"As far as I know."

"So there'd be a record of it."

"Yes. Yes, there would be," Tamara said, her expression indicating that she was understanding why he'd asked.

"Okay. Now, how long had you been there this time?"

"About two weeks."

"Whoever they were, they couldn't have done this on the spur of the moment. Did you have any indication of someone watching you?"

"No," Tamara said, firmly. "I can say that Levi would never have stayed if he'd felt that someone was watching us. So if someone was, he must not have realized, either."

"What happened that night?"

There was some tension, and Tim understood why. Recounting a traumatic event was hard, especially when there had been no resolution to it. Tamara took a deep breath.

"We went to bed. Well, _I_ went to bed. Levi stayed up. He sometimes would stay up until he couldn't stay awake anymore just so that he'd be able to sleep. I've found him sleeping on the couch before." She smiled a little. "Everything was normal...or as normal as we get."

Tim smiled sympathetically.

"I fell asleep right away. I never heard him come to bed, so I would guess that he didn't. Although he's said that sometimes he likes to watch me sleep because it helps him relax."

She laughed a little and then looked down. Tim just waited, letting her collect her thoughts.

"The next thing I knew, I heard Levi from outside the house." She stopped again and looked up. "Agent McGee, you know what Levi is like. I don't know if I've ever heard him out of control, not even when we were young. He took so much time to plan everything that almost nothing ever took him by surprise. Even when he was happy, he was still in control. Last week, when this happened...he wasn't. I heard him." Tears came into her eyes. "He screamed my name. I've never heard Levi sound like that, and I had been waking up already. There was some noise, but when I heard that...I knew something was wrong and I ran. There are doors in the bedroom leading out to the deck. I ran out, and then, I felt the explosion. It knocked me out. When I woke up, the fire was burning down and no one was around."

"So you don't know how they got Levi out of the house?"

"No idea."

"But he was alive."

"Yes."

"All right. Where exactly is the cabin?"

"In southern Virginia, in the mountains. It's off the road, on a little private lane that goes back into the forest almost a mile. It's off the grid, and very quiet. There's a private well. Heat comes from a fireplace and a geothermal system. There are solar panels on the roof and in a clearing near the cabin. There's also a basin for catching rainwater. It's not rustic so much as isolated. We didn't want to rough it. We just don't see anyone when we go there."

"So it wouldn't be a surprise if no one knew what had happened."

"Exactly. It's remote. No houses within ten miles. It's what Levi wanted."

"All right. If you could write down the address for me, that will make it easier to find."

"I could go with you. I've been there so many times that I could easily give you directions."

Tim shook his head. "No. Right now, I think it would be safer if we kept you out of sight. If someone did want you dead, too, then, we don't want them to know that they failed."

"All right, but if... _when_ you find Levi, I need to go with you."

"Understood."

"Okay."

Tamara took the notebook and wrote down the address and some street directions and then handed it back.

"How long do you think it will take?" she asked.

"I don't know," Tim said, "but I will do everything I can as fast as I can. I'm not phoning this in."

"I know. That's why I came to you," Tamara said. "Levi said once that you were a person who would help because it was right, not because he deserved it. And he's never said it, but he likes you, Agent McGee."

Tim laughed a little and saw Zahara trying not to smile.

"I don't know if I can honestly reciprocate," Tim said. "But there's a lot I can respect about him."

"I know," Tamara said. "I'm just so grateful that you're doing this for him."

Tim squeezed her arm.

"I'd better get going. I'll let you know where we're going next, when I get back this evening."

"All right. Thank you."

Tim nodded and stood. He walked over to Zahara and kissed her on the cheek.

"I will take care of her," Zahara said softly.

"I know. Take care of yourself, too."

"I will."

"See you tonight."

"Be careful," Zahara said.

"Always."

Tim grabbed his bag and headed to work. As he drove, he couldn't help wondering how Tony and Ziva would react. Probably, a lot like Gibbs, only worse.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Gibbs was wondering what Tim would do to convince Tony and Ziva that this was a good idea. Tim had said he wouldn't bother, but would he really be able to just draw the line in the sand and dare them to step across?

"Morning, Boss," Tony said, as he walked in. "Am I really the first one in, today?"

"Not by much," Gibbs said.

Tony grinned. "Doesn't matter. I'm still first."

The elevator dinged. Tony turned back.

"Ha! Beat you, Ziva!" he said, triumphantly.

"Tony, are you five years old?" Ziva asked. "Does it matter?"

"No, I'm not and yes, it does," Tony said, succinctly. "And we both beat McGee."

"I think I saw him driving in," Ziva said. "He will be on time."

"Doesn't matter. I still beat him."

Ziva rolled her eyes and walked to her desk. Gibbs was thinking that their morning would be momentarily ruined by what Tim was going to ask of them, but if they could get over _who_ they would be looking for and just treat it like any other case, it would only be temporary. The question was whether or not they could get to that point.

Gibbs thought about priming the pump a little bit and then decided against it. For one thing, he was actually a little interested in seeing how Tim approached this. As changed as he was, could he control what was sure to be a volatile meeting?

A couple of minutes later, the elevator dinged once more and Tim came into the bullpen. He looked at Gibbs for just a moment and raised an eyebrow. Gibbs responded with an eyebrow raise of his own. Then, Tim smiled a little and set his bag down at his desk.

"You're the last one in, this morning, Tim," Tony said. "I think you might be getting a little..."

"Actually," Tim said, cutting Tony off, "I'd like you all to join me in a conference room for a few minutes."

Ziva and Tony exchanged surprised glances and then looked at Gibbs, clearly questioning Tim's obvious attempt to be in charge.

"His case, his lead," Gibbs said, tersely.

" _Your_ case?" Tony asked. "What case?"

"That's what I'd like to talk about, but not out here."

"Why not, Tim?" Ziva asked, now a bit worried.

"You'll understand when I tell you. I promise that the case is not about me," Tim said and smiled. The scars around his eye crinkled up, but Gibbs was interested in how calm he was. This wasn't something traumatic to him. It was just something that mattered to him.

There was a visible relaxing at his declaration. Anytime something seemed to involve Tim, they tended toward worrying about what would happen next.

"Well, then, Special Agent McGee, lead on," Tony said.

"You may not say that when you hear the details, but I appreciate that you're _beginning_ on a positive note," Tim said and led them to a conference room.

Gibbs followed, but he was determined to let Tim make his case and deal with the potential fallout, rather than take over as he was sometimes wont to do. He meant it. This was Tim's case.

They all sat down and Tony and Ziva looked at Tim expectantly.

"What is it?" Ziva asked.

"I need your help to figure out who abducted Levi Carew last week and where they took him," Tim said, not hedging one bit.

There was a moment of shocked silence. Then, Tony forced a very fake laugh.

"What?" he asked, incredulously. "My hearing must be faulty because I could have sworn that I just heard you say that you _wanted_ to _find_ Levi Carew, the former director of the CIA, the man who made your life a living Hell for years, the man who..."

"...who also saved my life more than once," Tim cut in. "Your hearing is just fine."

"Great. Fine," Tony said, angrily. "It's the least he could do after everything he did to you. If he's missing now, good riddance, as far as I'm concerned."

Ziva had said nothing yet, but her expression was anything but accepting.

"No," Tim said, simply. "No, it's not good."

"Why do you care, Tim?" Ziva asked. "It is not as though you like him."

"No, I don't, but I do care about what happens to him. The people who took him nearly killed Tamara Carew, and they destroyed the cabin they were in. They're not good people. Levi never did that. He never went after innocents, and Tamara is an innocent in this. She was supposed to die, and she survived. Otherwise, no one would have known that Levi was gone."

Tim took a breath and Gibbs saw him debating about whether or not to let Tony and Ziva in on how interconnected the two men actually were.

"Levi?" Tony repeated.

"Yes. That's what his name is, Tony. ...and I promised him that if he ever needed help, I would try to give it. He needs help now. Tamara came to me last night, after walking for days to get back here, and she begged me to find him. I said I would."

Ziva looked at Gibbs.

"Are you allowing this, Gibbs?" she asked. "It has nothing to do with NCIS."

A last-ditch effort to remove the possibility of helping Carew. Gibbs knew that's what it was, and Ziva knew it, too. Jurisdiction was the weakest argument against taking on a case. They'd gone far beyond their jurisdiction many times in the past and they all knew it.

"It does have something to do with NCIS," Gibbs said and gestured at Tim. "McGee."

They both looked back at him. Tim hadn't backed down one bit. In fact, there was the slightest hint of irritation in his expression.

"Look, guys, I _am_ doing this," he said, firmly. "With or without your help. I'd really like to have your help because I think it's going to be hard to figure out who did this and why and where Levi might be. ...but if I can't get your help, I'm not going to beg for it. I'm not going to force you to do something you really don't want to do because then, you won't try, and I need someone who is going to put forth real effort. I don't care if Gibbs says that it can't be a case taking up my work time. I'll still do it. I don't care if Director Shepard tries to tell me I can't do it. I still will do it. I gave my word that I would help if Levi needed it. And he said the same to me. He needs help, and I'm keeping my word. So what's your decision? Will you help me? Yes or no?"

There was a long silence wherein Tony and Ziva looked at each other, clearly not wanting to agree. Gibbs could see that they _would_ agree, but they didn't want to. But perhaps Tim _couldn't_ see that because there was a slight slump to his shoulders, almost unnoticeable.

"Fine," Tim said.

He turned and started to walk out.

Gibbs suppressed a smile as he saw the look of surprised distress on Tony's and Ziva's faces. There would always be that lingering fear that any time Tim vanished, it was going to end with him hurt or dead.

"Wait a second, Probie," Tony said, quickly. "What's the rush?"

Tim paused, but didn't turn around.

"He's already been missing for nearly a week, Tony. The trail's cold enough as it is."

"Well..." Tony glanced and Ziva and then sighed. "Well, if we're going to work on this, then, we need to have a plan, don't we? No sense running off willy-nilly."

Tim turned back around and Gibbs was surprised to see quickly-suppressed expression of satisfaction. Oh, Tim was too clever by half when he wanted to be. Gibbs could see, now, what Tim had been doing. Instead of letting Tony and Ziva mull it over until they could come up with good reasons _not_ to do it, he had forced them to answer right away when their desire to be supportive overrode their desire to get out of it.

"Good point," Tim said.

No one addressed the fact that they'd capitulated. Tim didn't rub their faces in it. He just got down to business. If he ever wanted to do it, Gibbs could see that Tim would be good at running a team. All the years of suffering and rebuilding had burned away most of the dross of his uncertainty and had left behind a steel in him to do what was needed.

Tim sat back down.

"I want to start by going out to the cabin to see if there's _anything_ that might give us a hint as to who was behind this. The cabin is in southern Virginia. It's about 200 miles away. It's a long drive."

He looked at Gibbs again.

"Your case. Your lead," Gibbs said, again.

Tim nodded, accepting the responsibility, and Gibbs was impressed that he would be willing do it, but then, Tim understood that no one _else_ would be willing to take responsibility for this.

"Tony, I'd like you to come with me to the cabin and see what we can find. Ziva, I know it's not your usual task, but I'd like you to get with Abby and see if you can find any indication of people searching for information about the property. Tamara told me that she thought Levi bought it as a regular home purchase, but someone would either have to follow them to the cabin or else know where it was. I think Levi would have been watching for someone to be following them, and if someone wanted to know where the cabin was any other way, they'd have to know that he'd bought it. That requires searching. Boss..."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow with a slight twinkle.

"Yeah?"

"Could you convince Director Shepard that this case is a good idea?"

Tony let out another laugh, although this was sounded a bit more genuine than the previous one had.

"A good idea? She won't think that. Gibbs probably doesn't, either. In fact, the only one who does is you, Tim," he said, pointedly.

"Yep. It's true, but since I'm right, that doesn't matter," Tim said, in agreement, somehow making it sound like a good thing.

"Okay. Well, I'm guessing that we don't necessarily want to be taking the truck and attracting attention?" Tony asked.

"I think that's a good guess," Tim said.

"Then, I'll get the gear we'll need and transfer it to one of the cars."

Tony left. Ziva stood, still looking perplexed.

"Why are you doing this, Tim? Really," she asked.

"Because he needs me to," Tim said. "That's the reason. He doesn't have to deserve it. He just has to need it. And he does."

"You are a better person than I am," she said, "but I will respect what you wish to do." Then, she smiled. "And do not think that I have not noticed that you are leaving it to me to tell Abby about this."

Tim grinned. "I know you'll be great at it."

"Ha. Very funny."

Then, Ziva left as well.

Tim turned back to Gibbs.

"Well?" he asked.

"Well, what?" Gibbs asked, in return.

"Do you agree?"

"That you should find him? Not really. I think Tony's right. Good riddance."

"That's not what I mean," Tim said, raising an eyebrow.

Gibbs thought that Tim sounded more like him than any person had a right to. There was just a hint of warning in his voice.

"Your beginning?"

"Yes."

"I agree."

"Do you think Director Shepard will have a hard time with this?"

"I think she'll have to avert her eyes and not pay attention."

"Yeah, I know, but I meant what I said, Boss," Tim said. "I'll do this with or without anyone's help."

"I know. That's the only reason I'm agreeing to help."

"Zahara was right, Boss. Like him or not, Levi is a human being, probably being hurt. That means we should save him, if we can."

"It's more than that for you, though."

"Yes, it is, but that's all it should take. For _any_ of us."

Gibbs sighed a little. "Look, McGee, I know that you have your own reasons for doing this, but accept that the rest of us aren't so forgiving."

Tim nodded and started to head for the door. "I know that, and I understand why. But I know something else, Boss."

"What's that?"

Tim looked at him with an unreadable expression. "Levi would agree with how _you_ feel. He wouldn't agree with me."

Then, Tim left the room, leaving Gibbs a little nonplussed. The point of view was surprising. Would Levi Carew really view himself as not worth saving? Maybe Tim was right, and if so, Gibbs could actually see Tim's reasoning. Tim didn't want to be like Levi, and so he wasn't going to go along with what he thought Levi would say. That still wasn't all of it for him, but what Gibbs was seeing was not something he particularly liked.

Tim understood Levi Carew. He had taken the time to understand him, and that was more than just a required interaction.

Why? That was the question Gibbs wanted answered.

But for now, he would have to try to smooth things over upstairs.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Roy watched the door close and sat back, rubbing his hand over his head and was surprised to find a place where his hair was thinning.

That was federal politics. He'd had a thick head of hair before all this started.

That someone had decided to go after Levi was really not much of a surprise. In fact, it was more of a surprise that it had taken so long for someone to try it, but that Tim McGee was going to try to find him was the shock. The CIA couldn't do it. That wasn't their role and Roy was determined to keep them operating within their designated parameters. That meant that, really, it should be the FBI. However, while Roy had no reason to believe that Director Norton was like his unlamented predecessor, he was loath to get them involved.

Would Director Shepard really be willing to get involved with this? However, it sounded like Tim wouldn't take no for an answer and he was assuming that he would get the help he needed. Perhaps he would. Roy had not had much interaction with him, but he'd been impressed by Tim every time their paths had crossed. He had an edge of steel that showed his strength. That didn't change now, either.

That being said, he decided that he'd put out some feelers to see if there was anything being whispered about. He would have to be careful with it. He didn't want to be seen as going beyond his mandate, but he also felt obligated to help as he could.

It was just a matter of figuring out how to be most effective.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

While he had a few moments alone, Tim pulled out his phone, took a breath and committed himself.

" _This is Daniel Worthing. Leave a message."_

Tim smiled a little. He figured that Daniel must have changed his message to be in English while he was here.

"Hey, Daniel, I have a favor to ask you, but you may not want to get involved while you have time off. Give me a call back when you can. I'll be busy most of the day and may not answer, but you can leave a message and let me know if you're interested in knowing more."

Then, he hung up and went to find out if Tony was ready to go. As he headed down, suddenly changed course and went to Autopsy, hoping to find Ducky there alone. However, when he neared the doors, he could hear Ducky speaking. Now, that wasn't always indicative of whether or not he was alone, but Tim wouldn't be surprised if Jimmy was in there, too.

Well, he could still ask to talk to Ducky alone, even if that would make it sound more important than it was.

Decision made, Tim walked into Autopsy and saw Ducky and Jimmy staring at an x ray. The skull in question was split down the middle.

"I don't think he's going to make it, Ducky," Tim said, with a smile.

Ducky turned around and chuckled.

"No, I doubt he will. This isn't from any case of Jethro's. What can I do for you, Timothy?"

"Actually, I was hoping to talk to you for a couple of minutes, if you have the time. I'm heading out soon."

"Of course," Ducky said, easily. He turned to Jimmy. "All right, Dr. Palmer, take these samples up to Abigail for analysis and tell her that I'd like her to rush them, if possible."

"Sure thing, Dr. Mallard," Jimmy said. "Morning, McGee."

"Good morning, Jimmy."

"Breena says that I need to invite you and Zahara over for dinner soon or else she'll do it herself."

Tim grinned. "Well, I'm thinking that the next little while is going to be too busy for that, but I'm sure that Zahara would be happy to accept, maybe in a couple of weeks."

"I'll tell her."

"On your way, Dr. Palmer," Ducky said.

"Yes, sir."

Jimmy smiled and evaded Ducky's mock kick. After he was gone, Ducky turned back to Tim.

"What is it, Timothy? Did you finally figure out your premonition?"

"Actually...I probably did," Tim said, surprised that he hadn't thought of that already. "It certainly fits."

"What does?"

"Last night, Tamara Carew showed up at my place and she begged me to find out who abducted Levi and tried to kill her."

"Oh, dear. That's terrible. I take it you said you would do what you can?"

"Yes...but it took some arm-twisting to get Tony and Ziva and Gibbs to agree to help."

"Understandable."

"Maybe, but I know that they don't understand why I'm willing to help."

"I must admit that it surprises me, Timothy. While I know he has given aid in the past, I had assumed that you were relieved to have the contact with him over."

"Generally, I am," Tim said.

"But not completely?"

"No."

"May I ask why not?"

"Yes," Tim said, smiling a little.

"Why not?" Ducky asked, smiling in return.

"Because...he could be a really good person, if he let himself be. From what Tamara said, that's what he was before he decided to give everything to the CIA. I want to let him be that."

"Are you projecting?"

"Probably to some degree," Tim said. "But even if there wasn't all that, he's a human being who hasn't committed a crime. That alone should be enough for us to help him if we can."

"I agree with you, but I take it that the others weren't so enamored of the idea."

"No, they weren't, but they agreed to help."

"So, why did you come down here to speak to me?"

"Do you think I'm wrong?"

"No. Actually, I'm impressed that you are so determined."

"Why? Don't you feel the same way they do?"

"No, I don't...mostly because _you_ don't. You have had more interactions with Levi Carew than any of us, and if you feel that he deserves a second chance, even _twenty_ second chances, you must know something that the rest of us don't. That means I'm willing to support your desire."

"Thanks, Ducky. I appreciate it. I wish the others were more like that and less grudging."

"Give them time. Perhaps they'll mellow as well."

"I doubt it, but Tony is probably ready to go. So I'd better get out to the car. We're driving to the scene."

"Good luck, Timothy. For both your sakes."

"Thanks. I think I'll need it."

Then, Tim headed out to the car and Tony was there. He wasn't happy about it, but he was there. They got in the car and started on their way.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

 _Levi came running inside, crying as blood ran down his leg from a nasty scrape._

" _Papa!" he cried._

 _His father quickly hugged him and comforted him as his mother cleaned up his knee._

" _It hurts, Papa," Levi said._

" _I know it hurts, Levi, but the pain will leave you."_

" _I want it to leave now!"_

 _His father smiled._

" _You can separate yourself from the pain. It takes practice."_

" _Eli," his mother said, softly._

" _Hedva, it is his past."_

" _But not his future."_

" _We cannot know our future. Did any know? Did I? No."_

" _Papa, how do you not feel pain?" Levi asked._

" _Levi, you are ready to play."_

" _No, Mama. I want Papa to teach me."_

" _I will teach you."_


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

There was silence in the car for nearly an hour of the drive. Tim was driving. In a way, Tim felt that Tony was making him drive as a way of saying that he didn't want to be involved in this and that extended even to getting them to the crime scene. It was relatively amusing, but the strained silence wasn't all that great. Finally, Tim looked over at Tony.

"You can say it if you want to, Tony," Tim said. "I know you're thinking it."

Tony looked at him.

"Why are you so okay with all this, Tim?" he asked. "Carew is a terrible person who used you and nearly ruined your life. Why do you care about whether or not he's being hurt?"

"He's a human being, Tony. That should be enough."

"Don't give me that crap," Tony shot back. "That's not why you're doing it."

"No, it's not. That's all _you_ should need, though."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Why?"

"Because I care about him and what his life is like."

"You said that before. Why? Why would you care about someone like him, especially with what he did to you?"

"Because he's trying to be something other than he's been. If I can help him become better, then, why not?"

"Because he doesn't deserve it!" Tony said, angrily. "I could rant about all the things he's done, for a long time."

Tim nodded. "I know. So could I."

"Then, why _aren't_ you?" Tony asked.

Tim sighed and kept his eyes on the road.

"Do you really want to know or do you just want to rant?" he asked.

He heard Tony chuckle and glanced over at him. He was smiling a little bit.

"Equal parts of both, but I do want to know."

"I'm not because I don't want to. I know that probably sounds strange to you, but, Tony, I've had far too much hate in my life. Hate and fear and anxiety. I don't need to hold onto those things and it's too hard to do it. I don't know that I really like Levi. I can't forgive him for what he did to me, but I can respect a lot of things about him, and now, he's trying to be something other than he's been. I'm glad. That's a good thing, Tony. It's good when someone wants to change."

"He shouldn't get the chance," Tony muttered.

"Yes, he should. Everyone should get the chance to change. The only ones who don't deserve the chance are the ones who refuse to try it. Levi is trying, and I've seen firsthand how hard it is for him. Tamara still loves him, even after all these years. If you can soften just a little bit, Tony, you'll be happier, too."

"Ha," Tony said, but very softly.

Tim chose not to comment on that. Instead, he focused on the road. It was quiet for another little while, until they got off the freeway and started winding through the side roads and then country roads and then narrow, forest roads.

"It should be coming up on the right here," Tony said, looking at the directions.

"Okay."

Tim began watching for the even narrower private road that would lead them to the cabin.

"Is that it?" Tony asked, pointing ahead.

"Uh...I think so," Tim said. "I guess we'll find out."

He turned off onto the narrow lane, barely wide enough for one car, and they drove for nearly a mile and then, abruptly, they came into a clearing.

At some point, there had been a house there. Not a huge place, rather modest, actually. Just a cabin, probably two or three bedrooms at most.

And now, it wasn't even that.

Tim stopped the car and he could tell that even Tony was surprised by what they were seeing.

There was a lot of debris scattered around, indicating an explosion of some kind, whether it was an actual bomb or not. The wood was burned or scorched and very little of it was still standing. They crunched on glass from a number of shattered windows as they got out of the car and walked toward the site.

"Wow," Tony said, after a moment of silence.

"Yeah. Tamara told me that it had been destroyed, but I didn't realize just how thorough it was," Tim said.

"Is she sure that he got out?"

"She said that she heard him calling her name when she was still inside. I'm assuming that she could tell the difference between inside and outside."

"Yeah, probably. Okay. Well, let's get started. Not going to do anything by standing here."

"Very true."

They got their gear and started toward the house.

"Well, where do you think the origin was?" Tim asked.

Tony looked around. Neither of them were necessarily fire experts, but they both had experience with evaluating a crime scene, even one marred by fire.

"Most damage seems to be over there," he said, pointing to a corner.

"Okay. Let's get some samples. Maybe we'll get some accelerant that will give us a hint."

"You're dreaming, McGee," Tony said.

"I know. Let's just do what we can. Hey, speaking of dreaming, ...do you see a doorknob?"

"Doorknob?"

"Yeah. Fingerprints? They had to get inside somehow."

"After a week's exposure to the elements?"

"They've found fingerprints after two years. Abby made me read the studies."

"Yeah, but after an explosion?"

"It's still possible. You start documenting. I'm going to hunt for doorknobs."

"Go right ahead. It'll keep you out of trouble."

Tim laughed and started searching.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I would like you to repeat yourself, Gibbs," Jenny said, carefully. "I'm not sure I understand what is going on."

"You do," Gibbs said. "You don't like it, but you understand it."

Jenny sighed. "Yes. But I don't understand why."

"It's obvious, Jen."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah."

"Then, what is it?"

"He wants to save Carew. Like he was saved."

Jenny looked skeptical. "McGee's situation is nothing like Carew's."

"He doesn't see it that way."

"What if I said no? It's not like there aren't plenty of grounds for doing so and almost none for saying yes."

"He'll do it anyway, only without any help. Do _you_ want him working on this alone?"

Jenny shook her head.

"He won't back off. He made a promise."

She sighed again.

"I can't officially give permission. We don't have even the slightest bit of jurisdiction in this situation. Carew is a private citizen and even when he wasn't, he had nothing to do with the Navy."

"I know."

"You're saying you want me to look the other way."

"Yeah."

"For now. If someone starts pushing, then, no matter what McGee has promised, he'll have to stop."

"He won't."

"I know."

"Okay."

Gibbs got up and started to walk out.

"Jethro."

He stopped.

"What are you hoping for in this?"

"An end," Gibbs said.

"I don't think that will ever happen."

"I don't, either."

Then, Gibbs walked out. As he did, he thought about what he'd said. It was true. He did want it to be over, but he knew that it would likely never happen. How could it? Tim's life was permanently entwined with the CIA and, more specifically, with Carew. What bothered Gibbs the most was that Tim didn't seem bothered by it anymore. He seemed to be accepting it, even embracing it. While it was good that Tim wasn't dreading his life anymore, he didn't _have_ to be involved with Carew at all. And he wasn't trying to end it. Or if he was, he wasn't trying too hard to end it. He shook his head and went on. There was still plenty of work to do.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I don't like this, Ziva," Abby said as she ran a search.

"Which part of _this_ , Abby?" Ziva asked.

"Tim _wanting_ to help Carew. That's just not right. He might feel obligated. He might think he should. That's great because Tim is a great guy, but _wanting_ to help him? Nope. No. I don't like it."

"Why? It does not require anything other than a desire to help someone in need."

"It's not just _someone_ ," Abby said, firmly. "It's Carew! He's not a nice person. He's done way too much for Tim to want to help him."

"And yet, Tim does," Ziva said. "Perhaps, a better question would be what Carew has done that has led to Tim feeling that way."

"I have a hard time believing he could make up for what he's done. Or that he'd even try. He's..."

Then, there was a ding on the computer, distracting Abby from her rant. She looked at the computer.

"Okay. Here's the purchase. Wow. He paid cash for it. I guess Carew saved some money."

"I do not see him as one who would live extravagantly," Ziva said.

"Yeah, neither do I. I don't like him, but I can't picture him blowing his money on a mansion."

She looked at the specs.

"Two bedrooms, one bathroom. Wow. It's pretty small but a nice place. Lots of bells and whistles. Completely off the grid. If he wanted to be alone, this was the place to be."

"And if someone wanted to take him. This would be the place to take him from," Ziva said leaning over Abby's shoulder. "He bought ten acres around him and it does not look like there was any other house nearby. Has anyone been searching for this place?"

"Let me see what I can find."

Abby started searching. Ziva knew she couldn't help with this, but she didn't really want to go and do anything else. After they got some momentum, they'd all have things to do. But, perhaps, there was something more she could do now.

"Call me if you find something."

"Where are you going?"

"To talk to Levi Carew's wife and perhaps search his home."

"You shouldn't go by yourself, Ziva," Abby protested.

"I will tell Gibbs."

Then, Ziva headed out of the lab, feeling better about the idea now that she might be able to do something productive.

Maybe it would help her understand why Tim wanted to help Carew.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Zahara let Tamara dictate whether or not they spoke. After Tim left, Tamara had gone back into the spare room. Zahara followed much of her usual routine, the only exception being that she called Michelle and told her that she wouldn't be able to make it to the studio for a few days.

For the last hour, she'd been looking at her mother's family tree, following the lines back and back and back. How she wanted to have this same understanding of her father. Ibrahim had promised to see if he could find anything, but it would have to wait until he had some free time.

 _If only I had asked Mother before she died._

She hadn't, out of respect for what her mother had not wished to share, but now, she regretted that she hadn't pushed to know more about her father. It wasn't even that she _had_ to know for her life to be complete. It was just that her whole life was a dichotomy, the pendulum continually swinging between Christian and Muslim, Spanish and Moroccan, European and Berber, open and closed, liberal and conservative. She wanted to understand both sides of the swing. Of necessity, Ahmed had chosen to embrace the Muslim side more than the Christian side. He spoke Arabic more than Spanish in his job. She didn't know how much he cared about knowing their past. He tended to look much more to the future while she was continually looking back at the past. Another dichotomy of the Mokrani family.

In the midst of her thoughts, the buzzer went off. Quickly, Zahara walked to the door.

"Yes? Who is it?" she asked.

" _It is Ziva. Can I come up?"_

"Of course."

Zahara was surprised, but she buzzed Ziva in and waited to see what might be the reason for this visit. The knock came a minute later. Zahara hurried over to open the door and let Ziva in.

"Ziva, should you not be working?" Zahara asked.

Ziva smiled. "I am."

"Really? But you are here."

"Yes. I understand that Tamara Carew is here."

"She is."

"I need to speak to her."

"She is in the spare room. Just a moment."

Zahara walked to the spare room and knocked softly on the door.

"Tamara?"

The door opened.

"What is it?"

"One of Tim's colleagues is here. She needs to speak to you."

"Of course."

Tamara came out, taking a deep breath as she did so, clearly steeling herself to talk about what had happened again.

"Tamara, this is Ziva David," Zahara said. "She is an agent and also my friend."

"Ms. Carew," Ziva said, formally, "I just need to ask you a couple of questions."

"Of course," Tamara said again. "What do you need to ask? Agent McGee already asked me a lot of questions this morning."

"Would you allow Agent Gibbs and me to go into your home and see if anyone has been there who should not have been?"

"You think we were being watched at home?" Tamara asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

"I think it is a possibility. They had to know that you were gone and they had to know that it was a possibility. This is not something that could be done on the spur of the moment."

Tamara nodded. "I see what you're saying, although I hate to think that we were being watched. If Levi noticed something, he never said a word to me."

"Would he?"

"I don't know," Tamara said, sighing. "I'd like to _think_ he would tell me if there was something like that going on and he knew about it, but I can also believe that he would keep it from me if he didn't see any point in saying something. What do you want to do?"

"We would like to see if there are fingerprints or any other signs of an intruder in your home."

"All right. I'll give you permission. If this is about Levi, like I think it is, the room he was in most of the time was the study right by the front door."

Zahara had been sitting, waiting for the business to be finished, but suddenly, she had a thought.

"Ziva, could you also get some clothes for Tamara?"

"Oh, that's not necessary," Tamara said, quickly.

"It _is_ necessary," Zahara said, firmly. "She came here without anything and there is no reason to keep her in the same clothes day after day when she has clothing not far away."

"It would be no trouble," Ziva said. "If you give me a list of what to get, I can do so easily before we leave."

"All right. It would be nice to have some things while I'm staying here. I'd appreciate it. Just wait a minute."

Tamara went back into the spare room.

"How is she?" Ziva asked.

"She was terrified when she came here. Did you see her limp?" Zahara said.

"Yes."

"She was caught in the explosion and then she said that she walked most of the way back here."

"Why come to Tim, though?"

"She said that she thought that Levi wouldn't trust anyone else and that he likes Tim."

" _Likes_ him?"

"Yes. That is what she said," Zahara said, forcing a smile. She could hear Ziva's incredulity.

Ziva shook her head.

"Ziva, I know you don't like him, but Tim wants to help him. Does that not matter?"

"It matters," Ziva said. "That is the only reason we are doing it."

"He needs help, Ziva. That should matter."

Ziva squeezed her arm.

"I know, but I am honest enough to admit that I have a hard time thinking it does when it comes to Carew."

Reluctantly, Zahara nodded. She knew to expect it, based on what Tim had said, but it still disappointed her. She felt that she must have seen a part of Levi Carew that few had ever seen and it meant that he mattered to her. But perhaps, he had not let anyone else on Tim's team see it.

"Even so, I am still going to do my best," Ziva added. "I would not do only half a job." She smiled. "If only because Tim would know it, and I do not want to disappoint him."

Zahara smiled. "May I ask you a question?"

"Yes."

"I am trying to learn to use the contractions that Americans use, but I have noticed that you don't, almost at all. You have been here much longer than I have."

Ziva shrugged. "It has not been important to me. I am fluent. I could do it if I was willing to think about it more, but it is easier for me not to bother."

"I am finding it difficult. I know that there are many words that can be shortened. I just cannot figure out which ones quickly enough to use them naturally."

"If you practice, you will," Ziva said. "One thing to remember is that the contractions are used because it _is_ natural. Words that end with vowels followed by words that begin with vowels are naturally going to be put together. Like _I am_ or _you are_. It is like Arabic. _Bismallah_ is three words put together because it is easier to say them as one than to say _Bi ism Allah_."

"I understand, but it is still hard to do."

"If you want to, just keep practicing."

Tamara came out with a piece of paper.

"I hope this is no trouble," she said. "I've tried to make it clear where everything is. I really appreciate what all of you are doing."

Ziva took the list and looked at it. "This seems very clear. I will let you know if we find anything."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Ziva said and glanced at Zahara for just a second.

Zahara smiled because she caught the slight separation of the words, as if Ziva was showing that she _could_ use contractions if she wanted to.

Then, Ziva left.

"Do you need anything else?" Zahara asked.

"Not really, but do you have anything that can distract me? I'm finding that, every time I sit down and do nothing, I can only think about what happened."

"Yes. Do you wish to talk or do something mindless? Because we have a number of movies I borrowed from Tony. Tim called them mindless entertainment, but he watches them, too."

Tamara laughed.

"I would love to talk if it won't be too bothersome to you."

"No, I did not have anything planned for today."

"Then, I'd love to know more about where you came from. I only know the basics."

"Very well."

Zahara sat down on the couch and began to talk about her life in Morocco and growing up in Melilla.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"Aha!" Tim said, triumphantly.

"Aha, what?" Tony asked, feeling a little grumpy. He just wanted to finish up and get back to DC. No matter how he felt about Carew, seeing this intentional destruction, knowing the intention had been to kill someone innocent, it was all a little depressing.

He looked up from the camera and saw Tim holding up a doorknob.

A doorknob currently showing evidence of fingerprints.

"Look at this! And you said there wouldn't be any," Tim said as he put it into an evidence bag. "I'm going to see if I can find another one. Abby will be thrilled to see what she can pull from it."

Tony stifled a groan, but he had to admit that, if this had been any other person they were looking for, he would have been more interested. It was just that it was Carew.

"I'll help," Tony said after a few seconds.

Tim looked up at him and smiled as if he knew exactly what Tony _wasn't_ saying. ...and he didn't care.

"Thanks."

They started scouring the ruins and came up with four more doorknobs. Each with fingerprints. There was no telling just _who_ the fingerprints belonged to, of course. They could just be those of Tamara and Levi, but there were fingerprints to test and that was more than Tony had expected.

After they'd photographed the site, gathered what samples they could, and evaluated the overall situation, it was time to head back. Tony gathered up the equipment and loaded it in the car. When he turned back to tell Tim to get a move on, he saw him standing, staring at the ruins of the cabin. He walked over.

"What's up, Tim?" he asked.

Tim's eyes were a little haunted.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"I know you don't understand why I want to help him, Tony," Tim said softly. "But you should."

"Why should I?"

"Because what I'm trying to save Levi from is what I've gone through myself...and so have you." Tim turned to look at him. "If he's still alive, and I figure he must be because they could have just killed him if that's all they wanted, then, he's probably being tortured, Tony. Be honest, would you really want any other person to go through what you went through?"

Tony felt uncomfortable under Tim's gaze. It was so intense that it was awkward even to meet his eyes. He also didn't like the reminder of that period of his life. He tried to think about it as little as possible.

"Torture isn't like other things, Tony. It's not like just beating someone up. It's worse. They're not just destroying your body. They're destroying your soul, too. And I cannot think of a single person in the entire world who I would want to go through what I went through. Can you honestly want that?"

Still, Tony didn't feel like he could say anything. Tim didn't seem to mind.

"I've thought about it a lot, and even though I hate Jorgenson with every fiber of my being for what he tried to do to me, I still wouldn't want him to be tortured. I wouldn't mind punching him in the face. I wouldn't mind him going to prison for life. But I couldn't want him to be tortured. I wouldn't want to see it and I wouldn't want to know about it happening to him." Suddenly, Tim's eyes were pleading. "Please, Tony, please tell me that you don't actually _want_ someone to feel that way. I don't even know exactly what they did to you, but I know it was bad. You were seeing a psychiatrist for months after. I'm _still_ seeing one and I probably will for the rest of my life. Please, don't tell me that you could really _want_ someone tortured, not even Levi. I know you hate him. I accept that you do, even if I don't. Just..." Tim turned back to the ruins and shook his head.

"Why do you care so much about how I feel, Tim?" Tony asked. "What difference does it make? I'm helping no matter how I feel."

"Because, Tony, I can't accept the idea that someone I know and care about could want another human being to go through something so awful as the slow, steady and agonizing destruction of his soul."

Tony decided to push to see how far Tim was ready to take the idea. He could see that it meant a lot to him, but he had his doubts that Tim could go all the way with this.

"So you don't think Hitler would deserve it?"

To his surprise, there was no pause, not even for a second.

"No," Tim said. "He deserved to die. He deserved to lose, but torture is not a just punishment. If we're a just people, then, we don't allow someone else's values dictate our values."

"Our own government..."

Tim cut him off. "Don't even go there, Tony," he said. "Do not start acting like a child on a playground, pointing to someone and saying, 'well, he did it, first, so that makes it okay!'" Tim shook his head. "No. If we start looking at torture as a just punishment, we've already lost."

"Even though Carew did the same thing to you?"

"Yes," Tim said, firmly. "I don't care what he's done to me as far as this is concerned."

"You don't?"

"No. Because he's changing. He's not like he was, and I even understand the reasons for what he did. I don't have to excuse what he did or forgive it in order to believe that he doesn't deserve what's probably happening to him."

There was a silence and Tony saw that Tim really was carrying this the whole way. Tony wasn't sure why he couldn't feel the same way. As Tim had said, he'd been tortured, too. Maybe it just was that it hadn't lasted long enough. Or maybe it was because Tim's damage had been so much greater and longer lasting. Whatever the reason, Tim carried something inside him that Tony didn't have, and none of them had.

Then, Tim looked back at the remains of Carew's cabin.

"I told this to Gibbs already, but there's one more thing."

"What's that?"

"Levi would agree with you. He would say that he deserves this and that I'm being ridiculous. He would say that it makes no sense that I'm doing it."

"And so you're telling me that everyone, including Carew, thinks you're making a mistake and you're doing it anyway?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I'm right," Tim said and looked at Tony. "Just because Levi would believe he doesn't deserve it doesn't mean he doesn't _want_ it. What it means is that he wouldn't ask for something he doesn't deserve. I'm giving it to him, whether he deserves it or not."

Another silence, and Tony could see how much this meant to Tim. For whatever reason, it really meant a lot to Tim to do this. Even if he couldn't quite understand it, he felt that he had to support Tim through it all.

"As long as you don't want me to start singing his praises..."

"You don't see _me_ doing that, do you?"

Tony smiled. "Then, I guess I can go with you on this."

"Thanks, Tony. All I want is a real effort because if I have everyone's help, this will work. I don't know if it would on my own."

"If it works, it'll be because of you, Tim, not because of us," Tony said. "Now, are you ready to get back to DC?"

Tim nodded and that intensity faded.

"Are you going to make me drive back?" he asked.

"Absolutely."

Tim chuckled. "Okay. I'll drive."

They got in and started back to NCIS.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ziva and Gibbs drove to the Carew home and looked over everything there. They focused on the study, going from Tamara's suggestion, but at the same time, they also searched the rest of the house. While they got fingerprints (of course), there was no guarantee that any of it would be useful.

Ziva looked around the study after they'd finished.

"This place...it looks so normal. I would have expected something else."

"Like what?" Gibbs asked.

"I do not know," she admitted. "I just have a hard time imagining Carew having _anything_ normal. He himself is far from it."

Gibbs nodded.

"Do you think there will be anything here?"

"Don't know. Could be."

"I will get the things Tamara asked for and we can go."

Gibbs nodded and Ziva worked as quickly as she could to pick up what had been requested, mostly just clothing and toiletries, and then, they headed back out of the house. As they walked toward the car, Gibbs suddenly stopped and looked down the sidewalk.

"What is it?" Ziva asked.

Gibbs smiled.

"A nosy neighbor."

He started walking over to a house next door. Ziva followed along, not understanding but trusting that Gibbs had a point to his destination.

He walked over and knocked on a door. A few seconds later, a woman opened the door, looking slightly wary.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

"Hello, ma'am. Do you remember me?" Gibbs asked. "Agent Gibbs. NCIS."

For a moment, she looked confused. "No...I..." Then, her eyes widened. "Oh! Yes! Well, you have terrible timing, Agent Gibbs. Tamara and Levi are gone again."

Gibbs smiled. "I know that. Actually, I have a question for you."

"What's that?"

"Have you ever noticed anyone watching the Carews? Or even their house?"

"Why? Has something happened to them?" she asked, looking concerned.

Ziva could see Gibbs hesitate for just a moment. She knew why. This wasn't exactly a normal situation and letting out that they were investigating could lead to something getting out that they didn't want to get out, but at the same time, if they said nothing, the questions would seem strange.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Gibbs said.

"Oh, no!" she said, covering her mouth. "Are they all right?"

"Tamara is fine. She's staying with my team for the next few days. I can have her call you, if you'd like."

"All right. What about Levi?"

"He's missing."

"That's awful! You think someone was watching their house?"

"I think it's possible."

"I wish I could help, Agent Gibbs. Really, I do. I can't think of anything but..."

"Mom, there was that guy you were wondering about a couple of weeks ago," said a girl who was clearly a young teenager.

The woman turned. "Lucy, you aren't supposed to eavesdrop."

"I wasn't. I was walking by and I heard what you were talking about. You told Dad that there had been someone in the neighborhood and that if he showed up again, you were going to make Dad confront him."

"I do remember that, now. Go on, Lucy. I know you have chores."

Lucy grinned unrepentantly and continued on her way. Then, the woman turned back.

"I'm sorry about that. Sometimes, my children seem able to appear out of nowhere. I'm Lauren Sutton. I just realized that I'd never introduced myself, Agent Gibbs."

"And I am Agent David," Ziva said.

"Nice to meet you."

"This man you saw?" Gibbs prompted.

"Lucy's right. He disappeared after a few days and I forgot all about him. A few weeks ago, there was a car parked on the street. It was always the same car, but never in quite the same place. It would stay for a little while and then drive away. I wasn't always watching, and I assumed that it was just some salesman, looking for an easy mark, but the longer he was in the neighborhood, the more I wondered if there was something more to it."

"And?"

Lauren shrugged. "And if there was, I never saw it. He never even got out of the car while I was watching him, but I have four kids and it's easy to get distracted. I never even considered that he might be watching someone specifically."

"Could you describe him?"

"Not really," Lauren said, with some regret. "I didn't look very closely. Didn't want him to realize I was staring, you know. But he was white and dark."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that he was a Caucasian man, but his hair was dark and he looked very tan. Beyond that, I couldn't really tell you. I didn't see him close enough to know how tall he was or if he was big or small. He did seem relatively young, maybe forties. Does this help?"

"It could. If we need you to, would you be willing to work with a sketch artist?"

"Yes, but I know I couldn't get everything right."

"We would realize that," Gibbs said.

"All right, then, yes. Please, tell Tamara to give me a call. I want to know that she's all right."

"We will do that," Ziva said.

"Good."

There was a crash and a wail from inside the house.

"Oh, dear. That's Jacob. Was there anything else I could do for you?"

"Mom! Jacob fell off the couch!"

Ziva smiled. "No, that is all. Thank you for your time."

"Absolutely. If there's anything else I can do, let me know."

"Mom! Jacob won't stop crying!"

"I'm coming, Isaac!"

Lauren took a breath, smiled and then, closed the door.

Gibbs and Ziva walked away from the house.

"There may have been someone watching, at least for a period of time," Ziva said.

"Right before they left," Gibbs said.

"Yes. So someone was watching but did not necessarily go inside."

"Yeah, meaning that the fingerprints are likely useless."

Ziva smiled. It was rare that Gibbs was not the lead on a case, but it was almost entertaining to see him take on a different role. For one thing, he tended to speak more which made her wonder why in the world he thought that being laconic was part of being the team lead.

"Still, it will give Abby something to do."

"Call Tony and see where they are."

Ziva nodded and didn't bother to ask why he didn't tell her to call Tim. Instead, she pulled out her phone and dialed.

" _DiNozzo."_

"Hello, Tony. Where are you?"

" _On our way back from the cabin."_

"Are you close?"

" _No. We're not even back on the freeway yet. There was a lot to process. We've got quite a bit of material for Abby."_

"Good. How is Tim doing?"

" _He's driving."_

"You are letting him drive?" Ziva asked.

" _No, I'm making him. It's his punishment for dragging us into this."_

" _You mean my reward,"_ came Tim's voice.

Ziva smiled.

"What's the next move, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

" _I want to see if Abby gets anything, first. We need to know if there's something we can work with. And I have to admit that I'm hoping for a little outside help."_

"Outside help? From whom?" Ziva asked.

" _I'll let you know if it pans out,"_ Tim said. _"I promise that it's nothing like what you're afraid of."_

"What are we afraid of?"

She could hear Tim's grin. _"I'm not going to fall for that. Where are you?"_

"We went to the Carew home to see if there was anything there."

" _And?"_ Tony asked.

"And their neighbor saw someone in the area for a few days before they left. We gathered some fingerprints but I do not know that they will be anyone surprising."

" _Okay. That's interesting, though,"_ Tim said. _"See you back in D.C."_

"Drive safely, Tim," Ziva said. "Otherwise, Tony will have yet another reason to complain."

" _He doesn't need a reason,"_ Tim said.

" _Ha ha. Very funny. I'm hanging up before you go any farther."_

"Bye," Ziva said.

" _Bye."_

Ziva hung up.

"Tim will not give up on this, will he."

"Nope," Gibbs said. "Not until he knows for sure, one way or the other."

"Which way do you think it is?"

"I think he's alive now, but depends on why they want him, whether or not he stays that way."

Ziva nodded and it was quiet in the car for a few minutes.

"We should stop at Tim's building so I can give Tamara the things she needs."

Gibbs nodded and again, the silence fell. Ziva thought about what they were doing, why they were doing it...and who they were doing it for.

"Do you hope to find him alive or dead?" she asked, finally.

The silence after that question was of a different kind. Heavier, more unpleasant. Gibbs glanced at her and raised an eyebrow.

"It is no secret that none of us like him, but Tim wants to find him, and I know that he wants to find him alive. His wife is worried about him. Even Zahara is hoping for a positive result. What about you?"

"If it was just me, then, dead. For Tim's sake, alive."

"You think that Tim will regret it if Carew is dead?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"He understands Carew."

"Why would he try to do that?"

"Don't know."

"Have you asked him?"

"Nope."

"Will you?"

Gibbs raised an eyebrow again. "Will _you_?"

"I admit that I am afraid of what the answer might be. So much of the time I have been at NCIS has been focused on Tim's life and what has been done to him. It would be nice if things could be..." Then, she paused. "...I was going to say normal, but if normal is what has been happening most, then, this _is_ normal. It would be nice if _normal_ was not what we have."

"Can't change that."

"I know. I suppose I feel like you. I would not care if Carew was dead, but if Tim wishes to find him alive, then, I will hope for that."

Gibbs just nodded and kept driving. They stopped briefly at Tim's place to drop off the bag Ziva had packed for Tamara and to tell her to call her neighbor. Then, they continued on to NCIS.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

This time, he voluntarily abandoned the farm and rejoined reality. He took stock of his situation. His breathing had evened out and his heart seemed to be beating correctly again. He tested the strength of his muscles. How were they? Would they hold him? Could he force them to do what he wanted them to do? He tensed and felt the trembling. So they were weak, but he could do things. This might be the time to try. After all, what did he have to lose? What would they do? Kill him?

Decision made, he lay there, gathering his strength for one major burst of effort. If it failed... Well, he would still be in the same situation. They didn't want to kill him. Not yet. If he succeeded, he'd be free of all this.

...and he could hope that, if what his mother had taught him was right, that God might forgive some of what he'd done. Maybe, like King David, he could hope for eventual salvation, even if he had to suffer in Hell, first.

He lay where he was, straining his ears to hear when his captors would arrive.

He didn't care how long it took, but eventually, he heard the tread of someone coming to open the door. He went limp, not wanting to reveal what he was planning.

The door opened. He opened his eyes and saw the gun the man was carrying. Perfect. A knife _might_ work, but it would be harder to succeed as quickly as he would need to.

As the man leaned over him, no sense of concern, suddenly, he made a fist and punched the man right in the face. As his captor reeled backward, he forced his abused muscles to work. He surged upward and managed another punch to the face. The man was down for the count. As quickly as he could, he grabbed for the gun.

He kicked the door to the cell closed and brought the gun to his head.

Ready to end it all.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim parked the car and he and Tony took the evidence they'd collected in to Abby.

She was there waiting.

"So what do you have, oh, lead agent?" she asked.

Tim smiled. "Guess what I have, Abbs."

"Accelerant?"

"Possibly. Better than that, though."

Abby raised her eyebrow, Gibbs style.

"What?"

Tim lifted the bags with the doorknobs.

"Fingerprints from doorknobs that were in the fire! _And_ exposed to the elements for about a week!"

"Really?"

Interested in spite of herself, Tim could see, Abby snatched the bags from him and signed for them. Then, she took them over and began the process of getting as much detail as she could to run through IAFIS.

"Worth it?" Tim asked.

"Maybe. It's interesting, at least." Then, Abby looked up at him. "Tim, why do you want to do this for him?"

"Because he needs me to," Tim said.

"That's not the only reason," Abby said. "I can see it in your face."

Tim smiled a little. Abby was very perceptive when she wanted to be.

"That's the only reason I'm giving because that's the only reason that should be required."

"Touché," Abby said. "Well, I'll do my best. Gibbs and Ziva already gave me other stuff to process and I'm ruling out fingerprints we don't need."

"Sounds great. Can I watch?"

Abby grinned. "You probably have other things to do, since you're the one in charge."

"Probably."

"You know I can do this, Tim."

"I know, Abbs. I'm just hoping that something will come of this."

"Well, I probably won't get any hits until tomorrow."

"I know."

"Then, you should go home."

"Not until after I check with the others. Thanks for what you're doing, Abby."

Abby leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"I'm doing it for you, Tim."

"I know."

Tim left the lab and headed back up to the bullpen. He knew that there wasn't much more they could do tonight, but he wanted to see how everything was going so far. Then, he would feel that he could go home and see Tamara without feeling guilty. He stepped off the elevator and saw Gibbs, Tony and Ziva talking.

"Hey, guys," he said. "What's up?"

"Just talking about what we've done so far," Tony said. "So far, we know that someone was probably watching the Carews before they left."

"Any sign of people checking out the information on the cabin?" Tim asked.

"None that Abby has found so far," Ziva said. "I doubt anything will come of what we found in the house."

"Yeah. I would think they'd have realized if someone was in their house."

"Exactly."

"Do we keep working on the assumption that he's alive?" Tony asked.

"Yes," Gibbs said. "If they wanted him dead, they would have just killed him."

"But the question is whether they want information or revenge," Tim said. "Revenge will end eventually, but Levi is good at _not_ telling what he knows. They could hold him for a long time without getting anything from him."

"If that's the goal."

"There's one thing about that, though," Tim said.

"What is it?" Ziva asked.

"Once, Levi said that his value decreased dramatically after his retirement. There were few secrets that anyone could use. So if someone _does_ want information, will he even have it?"

"If they don't, how long would they keep the revenge thing going?" Tony asked. "At some point, they'll want it to be over, won't they?"

"Yeah. I just don't know if we should focus on the reason or just on the person who took him."

"To some degree, the person who took him will be dependent on the reason," Gibbs pointed out.

"I know." Tim sighed. "Well, Abby's got the samples running. There's not much we can do until we get those results and see if we have any help. It's late enough to go...unless you have something else, Boss?"

There was a small smile as Gibbs shook his head and walked back to his desk. Tony and Ziva took that as a sign they could leave.

"Want to come with us, McGee?" Tony asked. "Get a drink and relax a little?"

"No. I'd better get home so I can tell Tamara what's happening so far and I know Zahara will want to know what's going on. Thanks, though."

"Your loss!" Tony said, but he grinned.

Tim just waved him off. Ziva went with him. Tim watched them go and then walked back to his desk to get his things.

"McGee."

He turned. "Yeah, Boss? Did it go okay?"

"Fine," Gibbs said. "Why have you tried to understand Carew?"

Tim shrugged and didn't answer. He bent over to pick up his bag, but he heard Gibbs stand up.

"No, McGee. This isn't just about finding him now. You _know_ Carew, probably better than anyone besides his wife. Why?"

Tim didn't turn around and he still didn't answer.

"Is this about what you learned when you were in Yemen?"

"Not really. That was...the beginning, but not the reason."

"Then, why?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you, of all people, should be the one not wanting any contact with him. You should be the one who hates him, who wishes you never had to see him again, and you used to feel that way."

"I also used to be so afraid of losing everything that mattered to me that I was ready to implode. Things change."

"Why?" Gibbs asked again.

Tim didn't want to get into this, in part because he was sure that, even if he tried to explain it, no one would really understand. They had all decided how he should be reacting and since he wasn't, they thought it was wrong.

"I don't think you'll understand."

"You think we can't because we haven't..."

Tim turned around and interrupted Gibbs.

"No, it's not that I think you _can't_. I think that you _won't_ because you don't want to. I think you want me to feel the way you do, and I don't."

"How do you feel?" Gibbs asked.

"I started to see something more to him than just what I hated. And then...when I went to Morocco, I called in the favor he said he owed me. Initially, it was just me getting away and getting rid of what he said. But then, I realized that, favor or not, he would have helped me when I asked. He went far beyond what I asked for. And then, Zahara said that he told her some things. Levi said that he owed me more than he could ever repay, but he also had to try to repay, even if he couldn't succeed. I've been reevaluating what kind of person he is. Levi isn't normal. I think the life he's lived has made that impossible, but he _was_ the kind of person who loved his family and was loved by them. He also has very firm views on what is right and wrong and he refuses to compromise. His way of dealing with the decisions he made was to cut himself off from everything and everyone he cared about and put all of himself into his ultimate goal. I do understand him, more than I originally planned, and the more I understand who he is, the less I hate him and the more I feel that I can forgive what he's done to me, eventually. ...and I want him to get his life back."

There was a silence. Gibbs said nothing. He just stared. Tim felt compelled to add one more thing.

"And I'm not interested in being convinced to feel otherwise. I don't care if you guys don't like him. I don't care if you wish he was dead. I'm not going to try to tell you to feel some other way than you do. There are plenty of valid reasons to hate Levi Carew. He has made it extremely easy to do it. Just don't bother trying to force me to hate him because I don't and I won't. I've let that go and I'm not going to hold onto it again."

"You think we would?"

"Yes," Tim said without any hesitation. "Yes, I do because I could see you thinking that I'm somehow avoiding reality because I don't feel the same way. I've done that before, and I know the difference between avoiding reality and shaping my own reality."

"You've said your piece?"

Tim smiled. "I only said anything because you insisted on it, Boss. I would have kept it to myself because I don't think you understand, even now. I can see it in your eyes. You want to argue, but you aren't going to."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "You think we don't care how you feel?"

"I think you care, but I think you think how I feel is wrong," Tim said, bluntly. "And it's not. How I feel is _not_ wrong."

Tim could see that Gibbs didn't believe him, but he was completely sure of himself and so he just nodded once, gathered up his stuff and headed for the elevator.

"See you tomorrow, Boss," he said.

"Night, McGee."

Tim left the building and headed for home. Along the way, he got a call.

From Daniel.

He answered quickly.

"Hey, Daniel."

" _You certainly know how to make me curious. What's going on, Tim?"_

"You ready to possibly be dragged into something off the record?"

" _My whole working life is off the record, Tim. That's nothing new."_

"True. Levi Carew has been abducted and I'm trying to find him. Want to help?"

" _Wow, Tim. You don't do anything by halves, do you."_

"Not in the last ten years or so."

" _I'm only here temporarily, and the CIA can't investigate."_

"I know. Technically, I shouldn't be, either. I'm just doing it anyway and Director Shepard is looking the other way. For now. I don't know how long that will last."

" _I see. Well...what do you want from me?"_

"I'm not sure, really, but I think we have a limited time frame to do this and the more minds bent to it, the better."

" _I can see that. So...what are you doing so far?"_

"Just the basics. If you have any ideas of where to start looking..."

" _I get it. Well, let me do some checking around. It might take a few days, though."_

"I understand. Whatever you can do. I'll take what help I can get."

" _Gotcha. I'll do my best. Talk to you later. Might actually be nice to get my mind on something else."_

"Thanks, Daniel."

" _You're welcome."_

They both hung up and Tim continued home, glad to have at least one person helping him without any real reservation. Or at least none he was admitting to. It was a nice change. When he got home, he went up, hoping that Tamara wouldn't be disappointed that they didn't have anything solid yet.

He could smell dinner as soon as he stepped through the door.

"I'm home," he said, and savored that he had someone who could hear him say that and be glad.

Zahara hurried over to him from the kitchen as Jethro ran over and started jumping around. Tim petted him and then straightened to greet Zahara. She hugged him tightly and then looked him in the eye.

"Well?" she asked.

"We're still just getting started. I'm hoping that there will be something by tomorrow. Abby's running a bunch of prints and other evidence. It just can't all get done at once."

Tamara came out of the spare room. He could see the hope in her eyes.

"I wish I had something definite to tell you, Tamara," Tim said. "But we're just getting started. We went out to your cabin this morning and got some prints. If they're readable, then, I may have people to ask you about tomorrow."

"I'll take what I can get," Tamara said, nodding. "Thank you."

"Dinner will be ready soon, Tim," Zahara said. "You can change."

Tim nodded and was glad to set aside the stress of the day as much as possible.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

He was too slow. They must have been watching him more closely than he had realized.

In the time it took him to get hold of the gun, remove the safety and raise it to his head, the door burst open again and he was tackled to the ground, the gun going off harmlessly at the wall.

He didn't have the strength to fight back, and so he didn't bother trying. Instead, he lay where he was, painfully pinned to the floor, one arm twisted behind his back. He could feel his already-abused muscles trembling. His breathing was shaky and his heart had started thumping again. He was definitely not as young as he had been the last time he'd been a prisoner.

"What did you think you'd accomplish, Director?"

He waited until he was sure that he could actually speak, although it would have been easier if they'd ease off on the pressure keeping him on the floor.

"What do I have to lose? If I'd...made it... Whoever is behind this, it's about more than just information. This reeks of...revenge. It would have been...a triumph to snatch that chance from him by killing myself before he can do it...to me. You're already doing the worst you can to me. How do you think you'll...punish me for my attempt to end my own life? Kill me?"

They let him go and he rolled onto his back, taking deep, shaky breaths, trying to even out his heart rate and his breathing at the same time. His eyes closed, but he managed to smile.

"Your...move," he whispered. "But you can't win this game. No matter what. You'll lose."

"That's what you think. _I'll_ win."

He had just enough cognitive awareness to track in on that slight emphasis. This man was in it for some personal reason. In fact, it was likely that he didn't care about any of this. All he wanted was what he'd been promised. A mercenary.

The man he'd knocked out was dragged out of the room and he was left alone.

He lay there for a while, not caring. He'd failed. He didn't mind that so much. The chances of success hadn't been high, but he felt that it was likely he was at the best level he could expect to be while in their hands. If it wasn't now, it was never.

And he'd failed.

He took a few deep breaths, pushing away the pain, the discomfort, the grief. There was still another way.

...and he went back to the farm.

He could still make it.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Roy was just coming into work when he was met by an agent.

"Director, we have a problem."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Not out here," he said.

What a way to start his day. Roy hated when he was greeted with things that couldn't even be discussed openly within the walls of headquarters.

"My office."

The agent nodded and they walked in silence. When they reached his office, Roy paused.

"Will this take long?"

"Not likely."

"All right. Marjean, I should only be a few minutes."

"Yes, Director. There haven't been any calls yet this morning."

"Thank goodness for small favors," he said and smiled.

He walked into his office and turned around.

"What is it, Agent Velazquez?"

"We had someone running fingerprints at NCIS."

"NCIS? Whose fingerprints?"

Agent Velazquez raised an eyebrow, and Roy only barely suppressed a groan.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Who's running them?"

"The request was put in by an Abigail Sciuto."

Roy was more than a little surprised. Could it be? What were the odds that this man would be involved in Carew's abduction? And why?

"When?"

"Just about twenty minutes ago."

"Did she get the results?"

"No. I managed to block the request before it could be filled, but that doesn't mean it will stay that way."

"No, it doesn't. All right. Have you seen any other sign of him?"

"None. This was the first thing I've seen in four years."

"Great. All right. It's in my lap. I'll take care of it."

"What if the request comes again?"

"For now, go on as if nothing has changed. I'll let you know if something actually has."

"Okay."

"Is that all?"

Then, Agent Velazquez grinned. "Do I get a raise or a demotion for this?"

Surprised at the question, Roy let out a chuckle.

"I'm still deciding. I'll let you know that, too."

"Have a nice day, Director."

"I won't."

Agent Velazquez left the office, still smiling.

Roy's smile didn't last, however. Of all the people who could have fallen onto his plate today, this was about the worst one to do it, but that was the way these things went sometimes. They said that bad news came in threes. He'd had two so far. What would be the third? Regardless, his schedule was now ruined. At least, for the morning.

Quickly, he walked out.

"Marjean, call my driver and clear out my schedule for the next few hours."

"Yes, Director. What do you want the excuse to be if someone protests?"

"An unexpected emergency. Tell them that I should be back to my office before noon and reschedule if they can't wait."

"Yes, sir."

Then, Roy went back into his office to sit and collect his thoughts.

What would Director Shepard have to say about this?

That _did_ make him smile.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim opened his eyes after a restless night. He had slept, but he had awakened multiple times, unable to sleep deeply. In fact, he was glad that the night was over. Then, he thought that it seemed lighter than it usually was, and suddenly, he realized that his alarm hadn't gone off. He sat up quickly and looked around. It was _clearly_ later than he usually got up.

"Zahara, what time is it?" he asked.

Zahara rolled over and opened her eyes.

"You have the clock on your side," she said.

Tim looked at the clock, but it wasn't on.

"Is the power out?" he asked.

"Ana nā'im, Tim," Zahara said, yawning. "La a'rif."

Tim didn't catch all of it, but he got that she had no idea. He got up and walked over to his phone. And then, cursed under his breath. If he didn't rush, he was going to be late and he couldn't be late on a day like today...or any day when he was in charge.

"I'm going to be late!"

He ran into the bathroom and checked the water. Nothing. Well, he could shower at NCIS, if necessary. It wouldn't be the first time. He went back out and grabbed some clothes and a bottle of water. Zahara was still sitting in bed.

"Tim?"

"I overslept and the power is out and there's no water. I've got to go."

He ran back into the bathroom, brushed his teeth and did a quick shave. He didn't grow facial hair well, and he didn't grow much of it, but he looked scruffy and patchy when he didn't shave. Luckily, his razor was battery-powered. He shaved quickly, changed his clothes and then hurried out. Zahara was up by then, and she stopped him.

"Tim, calm down."

"I don't want to be late, Zahara. I'm in charge. I can't be late when I'm the one in charge. This is too important."

"But you will not be _that_ late. You did sleep in, but not so that you must run around like... like a headless chicken."

Tim chuckled.

"I've never really been the one in charge of an investigation, and if I'm not doing this, no one is. I can't let that happen."

"No, you cannot, but they will not stop working just because you are not there for a few minutes. You need something for breakfast. Wait that long."

"Zahara, I can go without breakfast."

"Yes, but it is not necessary. It will not take long."

She took his hand and pulled him out of the bedroom and to the kitchen. There, she made him sit down while she got his cereal. He smiled.

"Zahara..."

"No, Tim. Yes, you can do this yourself. Yes, you would be fine without it."

She cupped her hand on his cheek, as she often did. He pulled it down and kissed it.

"I love you," he said. "Have I told you that enough?"

"Yes, but I will always be happy to hear it."

Tim let her hand go and ate his cereal quickly. Zahara handed him his coffee mug and a pastry.

"You can fill it on your way. Be careful."

"Thanks," he said and kissed her on the forehead.

Then, he hurried to get on his way.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Five minutes after Tim left, Zahara heard the hum that signaled the power going back on again. She smiled. It figured. Still, that meant that, while Tim's schedule had been messed up a little bit, her schedule could be the same.

Or almost the same.

The door to the spare room opened and Tamara came out.

"Good morning," Zahara said.

"Good morning. I slept longer than I planned," Tamara said, looking a little sheepish.

"The power was out until just now," Zahara said. "Tim overslept and was running around, worried that he would be failing if he was one minute late."

Tamara smiled, but there was a wistfulness in her expression.

"What is it?" Zahara asked.

"I'm sorry. Everything brings my mind back to Levi."

"That is nothing to apologize for. He will be first in your mind. I understand it. Would you like to talk about him?"

"You know him already, don't you?"

"No. I have only met him a few times. He has been very kind to me, but I will admit that his eyes frightened me the first time I noticed them."

"They have that affect on people."

"Come. I will make breakfast and you can tell me about him. I know he is more than his eyes."

Tamara laughed. "Yes, but sometimes, I've thought that his eyes are a good indication of his life. Many people see only the black and nothing else. I see a darker shade of brown that is simply hiding great depth. I just wish he wouldn't hide it from me, too."

"He hides from you?"

"Yes. Not as much as he used to, but it's easier for him to show nothing than to let people in. We've been working on it, and it's been a real struggle."

"Why? Why does he not just open up to you? Surely, he trusts you if you have tried so hard."

"I don't think it's me. I think that, secretly, he doesn't think he deserves it and he isn't sure he wants to try if it's going to fail."

Tamara sat down at the counter and Zahara started to get out the ingredients to make omelets. She hadn't planned on doing a full breakfast, but Tamara might want that. Certainly, like Tim, she could probably use the meal. And it was good to have someone looking after her when she was so afraid for her husband.

"He does not seem to be afraid of that kind of thing."

"That's because he's very good at hiding it. I love him, but all this has been very hard for both of us. In fact, part of the reason we were out there was to have another go at connecting. When we're here, it's easy to get pulled into other things and out there, at the cabin, there's just the two of us. Not even phones. There's nowhere to go to get away."

Zahara smiled as she beat the eggs. "Tim probably wished that he could do that with me, but I had people to get me to see what the truth was."

"I keep hoping that something will finally jolt Levi out of his habits, but not so far."

"Is it worth it?"

"Yes. The potential is worth it. I wasn't sure at the beginning. Initially, I only was willing to try because I'd promised that I would. Now, I can see the possibilities, and I don't want to lose Levi to this when I can finally see a chance."

Zahara set the bowl aside and touched Tamara's hand. "You will not lose him. Tim is determined to find him and he will."

"I hope so."

"Tell me about him when you were married before."

As she had thought, Tamara smiled at the request and began to reminisce about her younger days.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

As was often the case when he ran behind schedule, Tim felt as though he was incredibly late, even though he knew that he'd left home only a minute or two later than his usual time. He had stopped to get some coffee, but he did it in a rush. Where all this was so important, he knew he had to be on hand. They were only doing this because of him.

He parked his car and nearly sprinted into the building. Unfortunately, his sprint came to an abrupt end as soon as he got inside.

Someone was ahead of him. Tim ran headlong into the other man and both fell to the floor.

Tim swore.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I wasn't even watching where I was going. Are you okay?"

The man he'd knocked over started to stand and Tim groaned when he realized who it was.

"Director Morgan! Oh, man. I'm doubly sorry. I'm running late this morning and..."

When he'd regained his feet, Director Morgan just raised an eyebrow. "Agent McGee, since it's probably your fault that I'm here, why don't you come with me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I can't talk about it out here. I have an appointment with Director Shepard, made at rather short notice. I'm not happy about it and I'm sure she isn't, either. So come along."

"Uh...okay, but I really need to..." Tim trailed off at Director Morgan's expression. He understood. This was not really an invitation. It was an order. "Right. Okay."

Tim tried to ignore Henry's grin as he passed them both into the building. He didn't know what this was about, but he really wanted to get down to Abby's lab and see what she'd found, if anything, so that he could figure out where to go next.

All those thoughts rushed through his head, but Tim didn't say a word. What he did was follow Director Morgan to Jenny's office. As he walked by, he saw that Gibbs, Tony and Ziva were already there and he groaned inwardly as they all looked up at him. He could see the worried expressions, but he couldn't do anything more than shrug because he had no idea why Director Morgan would say that this was his fault and he didn't want to draw attention to the situation.

 _Just keep working,_ he mouthed to them, knowing that it probably wouldn't happen.

Then, he walked into the outer office and tried to smile at Cynthia.

"Director Morgan, Director Shepard is ready for you," she said. "Agent McGee, if you could..."

"I'm apparently invited," Tim said.

"Yes, I'd like Agent McGee in on this meeting," Director Morgan said.

"All right. Go on in," Cynthia said, but she gave Tim a look.

He just shrugged. He was as mystified as everyone else. He followed behind the CIA director and met Jenny's surprised gaze when she saw him.

"Good morning, Director," Tim said. "I have no idea why I'm here."

"I don't know why you are, either, Agent McGee," Jenny said. "Would you care to explain, Director Morgan?"

Jenny gestured for them to sit.

"Yes," Director Morgan said. "This morning, I was informed that one Abigail Sciuto, forensic technician for NCIS, had made a request for the ID on some fingerprints. Given the nature of the ID, I have made an assumption that this request came from the case that Agent McGee is currently working."

Jenny's eyebrows went up.

"And what do _you_ know about Agent McGee's current case?"

"Please, Director Shepard, don't start this game. I'm not in the mood. Agent McGee is searching for Levi Carew, whether he should be or not. I can't think of any other reason that these fingerprints would have shown up with NCIS."

Jenny looked at Tim.

"Agent McGee?"

"Agent DiNozzo and I did gather some fingerprints yesterday from the destroyed cabin," Tim said, trying to sound professional. "I had Abby running them. I don't think anyone else had a request in yesterday, not for prints."

Jenny nodded and turned her attention back onto Director Morgan.

"So why would these fingerprints cause you to upset my schedule and very likely your own as well?"

"Because they belong to a rogue agent, one who has hidden himself so well that he hasn't been seen or heard from in four years. And suddenly, his prints are being run. That tends to get my attention."

Jenny's expression changed. She didn't look at Tim, this time.

"That gets my attention as well. Just how _rogue_ is this agent?"

"He killed his own team, and I don't mean just leaving them to die. He literally killed them, including one who was injured, no one knows why he did it. The only reason we know about it at all was that he missed once. We've been trying to track him down ever since, but we've had almost no luck at all. One glimpse four years ago and then nothing. Until this morning. The ID was blocked because the last thing that we want is to tip our hand when we know that he's in the area, and I'm sure he'll be watching for a BOLO. Any sign and he'll be gone again."

"Who is he?" Tim asked.

Director Morgan hesitated and then nodded.

"I guess you ought to know if this is your case. His name is Marc Edward Logan. He'd been with the CIA for fifteen years before all this went down, supposedly above reproach."

"Until he killed his team," Tim said. "How many?"

"Six. Gunned down in the middle of the night."

"Is this a case of trying to save his own life or is it a case of treachery?"

Director Morgan's eyebrow went up, but he answered.

"Quite frankly, we don't know. I wouldn't have thought he had access to enough information to turn traitor, although it's always a possibility in this kind of situation. If I was honest about it, I would have said that he just got tired of the job and decided he wanted something different."

"And was willing to kill six people just because he was bored? You make him sound like a sociopath," Jenny said.

"Yes. That's the conclusion I came to as well, Director."

"Did he have any interaction with Levi that would make him a likely suspect?" Tim asked.

"No. Not at all. Actually, he was under _my_ purview. He's _my_ responsibility. I receive any reports about him personally, and I don't want him getting away again."

"Are you saying that you're going to be involved?" Jenny asked.

"The CIA is not authorized to operate on U.S. soil, nor is the CIA equipped for investigations. The FBI is the branch authorized to do that."

"But you didn't go to Director Norton."

"He's not the one with the fingerprints."

"Now, who's playing a game, Director?" Jenny asked.

Director Morgan shook his head firmly. "I cannot, in good conscience, commit CIA resources to anything other than apprehending a rogue agent. That _does_ fall under my mandate, although I'll admit that I should get the FBI involved if we're on U.S. soil. However, given the situation, I won't be doing that. What I'm doing is warning you that, if Logan is involved in this, you'd better tread carefully. He was a sniper in the military before joining the CIA and I have no doubt that he's kept up his skills. I doubt he's leading the pack, but I wouldn't be surprised if he was secretly pulling a few strings. My only request is that you let me know if you do track him down. He needs to be taken care of."

Tim glanced at Jenny for a second, to make sure she had no reservations. She nodded fractionally.

"Yes, Director," he said. "I'll let you know if I learn anything about his location. Would it be possible to see his file?"

Finally, Director Morgan smiled. "Would it matter if I said no?"

Tim smiled in kind. "At the moment, it would...until I decided it was necessary find out."

"Then, yes, make the request to my assistant and I'll see that you get it by the end of the day. Please, no BOLOs on Logan. As I said, I'm sure he'll be watching for that. He's avoided us for four years and we didn't catch him before that, either. The CIA isn't perfect, but we're generally pretty good at finding people."

"Right."

Director Morgan stood up and started to leave, but Tim thought of one more question and he stood quickly.

"Director," he said.

Director Morgan turned back.

"Yes?"

"You know him?"

"I thought I did."

"Why would he be doing this now? He has nothing to hang on Levi. You think he got bored and moved on. Why be involved in abducting Levi Carew?"

"I can think of few reasons. He's bored again and wants a challenge. He's turned mercenary. Even traitors need to eat. Maybe he wants back in and thinks he can get there somehow. I doubt it's about Carew himself. Like I said, he won't be in charge, but he'll have control."

Tim nodded.

"Thank you for your time, Director Shepard," Director Morgan said. "Anything else?"

"No. Not on my side. Thank you, Director."

Director Morgan nodded and left the room.

"Agent McGee."

Tim turned back to Jenny.

"Yes?"

"You had no idea?"

"None."

"You're not giving up, I take it?"

Tim smiled and shook his head. "Not a chance."

"Even if I made it an order?"

"Not even then. I'd just have to do it on my own time, but I'd still do it."

Jenny sighed. "All right. I should insist, but I can see that won't make any difference to you."

"No, it won't. Not this time, Director."

"Then, I'll just tell you to be careful."

Tim smiled. "I will, but I don't have to worry about that."

"You don't?"

"No. This time, I'm not in it alone."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Gibbs had seen Tim's silent request, but he felt that Tim was ignoring reality when he asked them to keep working while he went into Jenny's office accompanied by the director of the CIA. It didn't matter that none of them had really interacted with Director Morgan. It didn't matter that Tim didn't seem worried, merely confused.

What mattered was the possibility that something else might go wrong in Tim's life.

Director Morgan walked out of the office alone and didn't even glance down. He seemed to be focused on his own tasks, but they didn't have long to wait for Tim to appear. He came out of the office and headed for the stairs. When he saw him, Gibbs suppressed a sigh of relief. There was no sign at all that Tim was troubled in any way. In fact, he smiled as he looked at them.

"What was that all about, McGee?" Tony asked. "Why were you in a meeting with the CIA?"

"I need to talk to Abby, and I can give you some information after I hear what she has to say," Tim said. "Could I put you off for just a few minutes?"

"Was this about you?" Ziva asked.

"No. ...or rather, it wasn't about me for myself. It was about me as the lead in our current case. I'll explain downstairs, okay?"

"Sure, okay, but this had better be important," Tony grumbled.

"It is," Tim said.

Gibbs saw that it was serious, but Tim didn't seem frightened or any more anxious than he had been. So that was good.

They all went down to the lab together. Tim strode ahead of them. Gibbs found it interesting how easily Tim was stepping into the leadership role. He didn't hang back. He didn't accept prevarication and he was focused on what he wanted to get done.

"Abby, I need..."

Abby didn't let him finish.

"Tim, I got some great fingerprints from the doorknobs, but one of them was blocked. I don't know why. I was just about to start getting angry about it. This worked! It was perfect, and I don't like it when I can't..."

"Abby, it did work, and I know whose prints they are."

"What?! How do _you_ know?"

"Because of who blocked your search and why," Tim said. "I'll tell you, if you'll let me."

Abby's brow puckered slightly, but then, she nodded. Tim turned to look at everyone, including them in his explanation.

"That's why Director Morgan was here."

"The prints belong to someone at the CIA?" Tony asked, appalled. "That seems low, even for them."

"No. They belong to a rogue agent that they've been trying to find for years."

"Rogue?" Ziva asked. "What did he do?"

"Killed his team, and apparently, just because he got bored with his job. They haven't had any sign of him for four years. These prints were the first time."

Gibbs felt the chill in the room. People who apparently had no moral compass were frightening.

"So...why block them?" Abby demanded.

"Because they're afraid he'll get away again," Tony said, before Tim could. "If he's good enough to hide for that long, they've got to be nervous that any sign that they're aware of his activity will lead him to go to ground again."

Tim nodded.

"Does he have an ax to grind with Carew?" Ziva asked. "Why would he be doing this?"

"No, he doesn't. Director Morgan was the one over him. He would have no reason to go after Levi. Director Morgan doesn't think that he's the one in charge. He's probably pulling some strings, but he doesn't think that this guy is making the decisions."

"Who is he?" Gibbs asked, speaking for the first time.

"His name is Marc Edward Logan. He'd been with the CIA for fifteen years and before that was a sniper. He knows what he's doing," Tim said.

"Do we?" Tony asked. "That sounds like a bad person to cross."

"If we find him, we tell the CIA and they take care of him," Tim said. "Director Morgan is going to get me access to his file today, but we can't issue any BOLOs or give any sign that we know he's involved. If we find him, the CIA wants him, and I'm fine with that."

"So the idea is to keep it a secret until we have a chance to get him?" Ziva asked. "I think that will keep _us_ safer, as well."

"I'm good with that, too," Tim said, smiling a little. "So did you get any other hits?"

"Mostly just Levi Carew and Tamara Carew. A couple from the house that belonged to neighbors. Two sets from the cabin that I can't get any identity on...because there's no identity to get, not because _someone_ is blocking me," Abby said, still sounding a little miffed.

"So nothing shocking besides Logan's and these two that you don't know?"

"That's right."

"Okay. Thanks, Abby. I really appreciate it."

Abby smiled. "You're welcome, Tim."

"So what now, Special Agent McGee?" Tony asked as they headed out of the lab.

Tim gave it some thought. Their best lead was one that they still didn't know as much as they needed, and they need to keep it quiet, too. He would need to find out if Tamara had ever seen Logan, and if he had been in the neighborhood. He would like to get Ducky's perspective as well, but he couldn't do that until he had something to show him.

"Can I mention something that we haven't yet?" Tony added, after a few moments of silence on the elevator.

Tim smiled, knowing where Tony was going. It was where he always went.

"It wasn't Tamara," he said.

"It would be a perfect way to cover it up. Pretending to be the victim."

"There are a few problems with that, Tony," Tim said.

"What?"

"First, there's no reason for her to do it. This thing that they're doing is completely voluntary on both sides. In fact, they both told me at separate times that she has most of the control in the situation. All she would have to do is walk away."

The elevator dinged open and they all walked into the bullpen.

"Second," he continued, "this happened out in the middle of nowhere, when no one was around, when no one expected them. All she would have to do is kill him and leave. Third, Logan. It doesn't make sense that she'd have access to him when he's been underground for at least four years. It just doesn't make sense."

"Okay. I just had to bring it up."

"I know," Tim said. "I expected it."

Tony grinned. "Always anticipate."

"Yeah."

"How much do you know about Carew's run-ins with other people?" Gibbs asked, suddenly.

Tim looked at him in surprise. "Personal or professional?"

"Both."

"Very little on the personal side. Some on the professional."

"Make a list. Revenge or information, it has to be someone who knows him."

Tim nodded, easily accepting the suggestion, perhaps even relieved that Gibbs had made it.

"That's a good idea, Boss," he said. "While I'm doing that, Ziva, could you get back with Abby about the inquires on the cabin property?"

Ziva nodded.

"Tony..." Tim hesitated.

"Hey, want me to go and rattle some cages at the FBI?" Tony asked. "Fornell doesn't have much time left before he retires, you know."

"And what does that have to do with anything?"

"He'll be more reckless."

"Maybe."

"Okay, how about I try to see if there's anything quiet and subtle I can do over there?"

"You? Quiet and subtle?"

"Hey, of the two of us, I'm the one who still has more undercover experience."

"Point taken," Tim said. "If you think can get anywhere with them, go ahead, but remember that we're not spreading anything about Logan around. Not yet."

"I got it," Tony said. "Hey, Boss, want to come with me? We can bug both Sacks _and_ Fornell at the same time!"

Gibbs rolled his eyes and then looked over at Tim. He could see that Tim felt uncomfortable giving him orders, but since he'd been confident about doing it for everyone else, Gibbs felt he could give Tim a pass on that. It was more than a little discomfiting to give orders to one's boss.

"Yeah, maybe that would be a good idea. Gibbs could keep you reined in," Tim said, smiling.

"Sounds good to me!"

Tim sat down at his computer and started working while Tony and Gibbs headed out. As soon as the elevator was closed, Tony's grin faded.

"I don't like this, Boss," he said.

"No one does, except McGee," Gibbs said.

"No, not finding Carew. I think it's a bad idea, but that's not what worries me. It's this guy Logan. Even with as little as we know about him right now, what we know is that this guy is willing to kill, apparently for no reason at all. I don't like going after guys like that. You can't reason with someone who just kills for kicks."

"I don't think the CIA plans on reasoning with him."

"I don't, either. That doesn't bother me. He's their problem. They _should_ take care of it. But _we're_ the ones who will probably find him first."

"Yeah."

"You going to go along with no BOLO?"

"Yeah."

"For how long?"

"Until McGee says otherwise."

"You're going to carry him being in charge that far?"

Gibbs looked at Tony and raised an eyebrow.

"McGee is in charge. His case, his lead. We can make suggestions, but the final decision is his, especially with Logan and the CIA."

"I just don't like it."

"I don't, either. Not my decision."

The elevator doors opened, and Gibbs knew that Tony was biting back the suggestion that Gibbs was sidestepping his responsibility. Gibbs understood the concern and he even shared it to some degree, but he was going to trust Tim to keep all their safety in mind while he was working.

For the time being, he focused his thoughts on what Fornell would say.

He smiled.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim spent the next hour thinking about the people who might have a reason to resent Levi or who might want something from him. It was fairly lengthy, but at the same time, this was above and beyond simple resentment. Wanting to pick a fight with him was one thing, abducting him and trying to kill Tamara put everything on a different level.

He stared at the list and at the first name he'd thought of. He hesitated to bring it up because it might seem like he was letting his own lingering resentment affect his judgment. Still, it wasn't like he was making up the hatred. He knew it was there.

He took a breath and pulled out his phone.

" _Gibbs."_

"Hey, Boss, have you got to Fornell yet?"

" _No. He's out at Quantico. We're on our way down there."_

"Okay. Could you ask him if he's heard anything about Jorgenson recently?"

There was a long pause.

" _Why?"_

"Because I don't know of anyone who seems to hate Levi both professionally and personally more than Jorgenson does. It might be nothing, but that could easily cover both revenge and information. Plus, we already know that he's willing to...circumvent the law to get what he wants."

" _But attempted murder, McGee? You think he'd go that far?"_

"I don't know. That's what I'd like to find out. If there's nothing, there's nothing, but that's the first name I thought of, Boss. Director Shepard said that Levi was instrumental in getting Jorgenson out of politics. Just ask him."

" _He may not know whether you're right or wrong."_

"I know. Ask him anyway." Tim hesitated. "Please."

" _We'll ask."_

"Thanks, Boss."

Tim hung up and looked around. He was just waiting for the file from the CIA to get here or at least for his access to be official. Maybe he wouldn't wait.

Quickly, he left the building and walked out to Willard Park. He sat down and pulled out his phone. He dialed a number and waited.

" _Daniel Worthing."_

"Daniel, it's Tim."

" _Tim, I said it might take a few days. It's only been one!"_

"I know. I just need to ask you a couple of questions, but I think it should be in person, not over the phone. Can you come to the Yard or do you want to meet somewhere else?"

" _Somewhere else, I think. That might just be a bit too blatant."_

"Okay. Can it be relatively close to the Yard?"

Daniel chuckled. _"Sure."_

"Good. How about we meet up at the Metro stop on M street?"

" _That works for me. Give me about twenty minutes to get there."_

"All right."

Tim hung up and hurried inside so everyone knew that he hadn't disappeared. He ran down to Abby's lab.

"Tim! We think we might have found something!" Abby said, excitedly.

"That's great," Tim said, "but I can't stay for it right now. I need to go meet someone. I'm just letting you know that I'll be gone for a bit. I'll be back, probably in an hour. I'm really excited to hear it, but I need you to wait. Okay?"

Abby looked like she was debating being upset. Then, she smiled. "Okay. I'll let you go."

"Thanks," Tim said and smiled. "Is it okay with you, too, Ziva?" he asked.

Ziva laughed. "This is Abby's news, not mine. Just be careful."

"I will, but I'm not worried about this one."

Tim turned and left the lab and hurried out. He jogged down to the Metro station and saw Daniel just coming out. He waved and Daniel smiled and headed over to him.

"Hey, thanks for meeting me."

"You made it sound important," Daniel said, smiling. "It had better be."

"It is, although it may not pan out, but I thought it was worth a shot."

"Okay. Now, I'm getting more interested. Let's find somewhere to talk."

Tim nodded and they walked to a relatively secluded space and sat down.

"So, what's this about?" Daniel asked.

"We found some fingerprints out at the cabin and, amazingly, they were good enough. It turns out that they belong to a rogue CIA agent. I'll be getting his file later today, but I was hoping that you might know something about him, so I can get a head start."

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Tim, I've been in Morocco for years, and there are a lot of CIA agents. I think you're reaching."

"This was a big enough thing that I figured it was worth a shot to ask."

"Okay. Try me out. What did he do?"

"Apparently, he'd been in the CIA for years and he suddenly decided to kill his team for no reason."

Daniel went very still.

"Did you hear about it?" he asked.

There was silence for a few seconds. Then, Daniel cleared his throat.

"He was a sniper, and only one of his team got away," he said, almost in a whisper.

"Yeah."

"Yeah...I knew about it. Marc Logan."

Tim started to get the feeling that Daniel more than _knew_ about it.

"Daniel?"

"Tim, there's a reason I was allowed to propose my assignment in Morocco. I hadn't been in the CIA very long when I did it and most agents aren't going to be given what is essentially their dream assignment, especially not a long-term one like I got. I was good, but not that good."

Daniel stared out at the grass, but Tim knew he wasn't seeing it.

"Everything had been normal. We'd had some tough moments. Dallin caught some shrapnel on our way out, but we knew we could get him back and he'd recover. We'd got out successfully. Everything was fine. I was out on recon, no problems, and was just coming back...when it wasn't fine anymore."

"What happened?" Tim asked.

Daniel clenched his hands into tight fists.

"Logan came out of the tent and just started shooting. He took out three of us before we even had time to realize what he was doing. Dallin _almost_ was able to shoot back, but only almost. Logan shot him right in the face. Nothing I'd experienced up to that point could have prepared me for someone going rogue this way. I watched it all. Logan wasn't upset. He wasn't frightened. He wasn't angry. He was cold. Cold and empty. When he looked at me and saw that I was still alive, he just smiled and started after me. I ran."

Hands still clenched into fists, Daniel closed his eyes.

"He hunted me for a week before I got away. He was so close to getting me. It was a game to him. It was a sick and twisted game. I don't know why he did it, but he wasn't under duress. He wasn't afraid of being caught. It was like he was having fun...at least when he was after me. Logan might be insane. I don't know, but if he is, it's a cold insanity. By the time I got away, I was nearly dead just from not having any supplies and not getting any sleep. I was awake for that entire week. I didn't dare sleep, not for a minute. I don't think he slept, either, but he didn't seem bothered by it." Daniel paused for a moment in complete silence before continuing. "Tim, that was the worst experience I have ever had in my life. I know it's risky to say nothing could top it, but I don't know how anything could top watching him calmly commit murder and then hunt me for a week. I felt every second of that week. It was like Poe's _Pit and the Pendulum_. It was coming closer and closer, and I knew that he'd get me eventually, if I couldn't find a way out of the area."

"But you made it," Tim said.

Daniel nodded, took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh. He opened his eyes and looked at Tim.

"When I got back, I made my report." He laughed hollowly. "The funny thing is that they didn't believe me at first. They thought it was impossible. Logan had such a good record, but I was able to lead them back to the camp where what was left of the team was. No Logan, but everyone else was there and they were all killed with his weapon. I reported to Director Morgan and he had me make a report to Director Carew. I told him that I was done. I was out. I couldn't deal with it. His response was to give me a month to go home, but he made it contingent on my seeing a shrink during that entire time. Paid leave. Who was I to say no to paid leave?" He smiled weakly. "So I did as he said. I'm nothing if not obedient. I told my parents as much as I could...which wasn't much. They helped as much as they could...which wasn't much. But that's when I told Dad how much I missed Marrakech. That's where I fudged things a little with you. I went back after a month at home and asked Director Carew if I could propose my next assignment. He listened and then agreed to it. He called what had happened to me a trial by fire, and he said that I had earned the right to make that kind of request. If it didn't end up being viable, I would have to come back, but I would be given the time and the resources to try and be successful."

"And you were."

"I was, but it was six months before I was in any state to go. It wasn't just a trial by fire. It was a raging inferno that nearly consumed me. Tim, Marc Logan is not a human being. I don't know what else he might be, but he's a monster, and I have my doubts that the years have changed that."

Tim digested what Daniel said. Then, he reached out and squeezed Daniel's shoulder.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he said. "I had no idea that it would be so personal for you. I wouldn't have asked if I had known. I'd never want to make you go back to that. I know how it feels to relive the past."

Daniel shook his head. "No. It's okay. I just haven't thought about it in a long time. It's one of those events I try _not_ to think about, but if he's part of this, you need to know how dangerous he is, and you won't get that just from reading a file, no matter how thorough it is." Daniel faced Tim directly and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Tim, I looked into his eyes and I saw nothing. People have said that Director Carew shows nothing. And it's true, but he does it by _covering_ whatever he feels. He still feels things. He just doesn't let anyone know it. It's like he dares you to try and pierce that covering. Logan had nothing. There was _nothing_ in his eyes, nothing at all. He will not be the kind of person you want to face off with. He'd be as calm killing himself as he would killing someone else. If he wasn't always like this, then, he snapped. And it was a complete break, not something a person recovers from."

Tim nodded and thought about it.

"If you want to be out of this, now..."

"No," Daniel said, firmly. "No, if Carew is in the hands of Marc Logan, I want to be a part of it. I want to see him taken care of. Preferably on a permanent basis. If he dies in the process and I can see his dead body, I'd be thrilled. I haven't had to kill anyone since I got back from that, but I'd kill Logan with pleasure, just so that I _knew_ he was dead."

"Director Morgan doesn't think he'll be the one in charge."

"That won't matter, really. If he's working for someone else, it's not out of any kind of altruism. He's getting something out of it and it'll be something he really wants."

"Is there anything else you can tell me about him?"

Daniel sat back again, thinking for a few seconds.

"I hadn't been on his team for long. Actually, I think we were all new to his team on that mission. Maybe that's why he did it. No one would know what was out of character."

"Did you know anyone who had been on his team before?"

Daniel shook his head. "Not off the top of my head, but I'll add that to my list. Tim, Carew probably saved my life. I can't even describe how messed up I was after what happened. I owe him for that, for helping me get what I needed, not what I thought I wanted. If I can help him, I will."

"Thanks, Daniel. I'll keep you updated and let me know if you find something."

"I will."

They both stood and went their separate ways. Tim didn't hurry back to NCIS, wanting to think over what he'd learned. It seemed like, no matter who was ultimately in charge, this Logan was the most dangerous participant. They would have to be very careful.

He also thought about Daniel's perspective of Levi. He had said that Levi gave him what he needed, not what he wanted. That fit with Tim's own interactions on occasion. It also fit with what Levi had said his responsibilities were. First, to protect the country. Second, to protect his employees. Third, to protect the CIA's reputation. If the country wasn't in danger from it, he would protect his people. He had apparently decided that Daniel wouldn't be best served by leaving the CIA and didn't care what Daniel had _thought_ he should do.

Someone like Marc Logan must have been offensive to Levi's view of the world, where Levi had deliberately chosen _not_ to put himself first.

He reached the Yard entrance far too soon for his preoccupied thoughts, but he had a lot to do.

He just hoped that he could get Logan's file sooner rather than later.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Tony was watching for the appearance of Sacks and Fornell, but he was also thinking about Tim's request.

"Do you think that Jorgenson could be responsible for this, Boss?"

"Depends," Gibbs said, shrugging.

"On what?"

"On whether or not McGee is right about how much Jorgenson hates Carew."

"I hate the guy, too, but I'm not about to hunt Carew down and kill the people around him."

"You also wouldn't try to imprison someone and make him into a slave," Gibbs said. "There they are."

"You want to take the lead?" Tony asked, with a grin. "Since you've ceded all control to McGee, I mean."

Gibbs just looked at him for a second and then walked over. Tony could see Fornell's resignation.

"What is it, Gibbs? Couldn't you just let me know you're coming?"

"Nope. Got a couple of questions to ask you."

"About what?" Sacks asked. "We haven't had anything to do with the Navy in months."

"And hasn't it been lovely," Tony said.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said, warningly.

Tony knew this wasn't the time to antagonize Sacks. It was hard to resist, though.

"What is it, Gibbs?" Fornell asked with a warning look of his own at Sacks. This was not the time or place for it.

"Have you heard anything about Jorgenson, lately?" Gibbs asked.

"Jorgenson?" Fornell repeated. "Why? He's been out for a couple of blissful years."

"He was blackballed," Sacks said. "No one says so out loud, but everyone knows it. He could never get into federal politics again."

"So you haven't heard anything?" Tony asked.

"No one shed any tears when he left," Sacks said. "I doubt there are many trying to keep track of him at this point. I certainly am not."

"Fornell?" Gibbs asked.

Fornell was looking at them both very carefully. Tony could tell he was trying to figure out where this was going without asking where it was going.

"What if I had?"

"Then, we want to know," Tony said.

He looked at Gibbs, wondering how far he was willing to go in this. Would he tell Fornell about Carew?

"Why?"

"Because Carew is missing, his cabin destroyed and his wife nearly killed," Gibbs said, tersely.

"Wait a second," Fornell said. "That has nothing to do with the Navy. What in the world are _you_ doing looking into it? You don't have even a smidgen of jurisdiction over something like that."

"Not my idea, Tobias," Gibbs said.

"Whose idea was it?" Sacks asked.

"McGee's," Tony said. "Tamara Carew came to him for help in finding him and McGee said yes. Got the rest of us involved."

"What's the justification?" Fornell asked.

"We don't have any. We're just doing it anyway, but we're trying to keep it _quiet_ ," Gibbs said.

"Well, I don't have a problem keeping that quiet, but you're not going to be able to do that forever."

"I know."

Then, Fornell smiled. "Just long enough for you to convince McGee to give it up?"

Gibbs said nothing for or against it. Tony knew he wouldn't. Nothing would make Tim give up anyway.

"Have you heard anything?"

"I've heard some rumors," Fornell said. "Nothing I could verify. I haven't tried to, either."

"What are they?" Tony asked.

"That Jorgenson isn't going to stay out. That he'll find a way back in. It's just a matter how and when. He wasn't going to accept what happened with any kind of grace. That not even the president could keep him out forever."

"How could he get back in if there's no one willing to take a chance on him?"

"You know what federal politics are like, DiNozzo," Fornell said. "If he can make a case for it, especially after the current president is out, he'll get back in. Will he be able to? Who knows? I hope not, but I'll be retired before he could make a real attempt, thank goodness."

"So are you saying you think that Jorgenson has something to do with Carew's disappearance?" Sacks asked, skeptically. "Come on."

Tony was skeptical, too, but he didn't like having someone else express doubt.

"Fornell just said that he wants back in. Carew is apparently who kept him out," Tony said. "He already has shown that he's willing to do illegal things."

"But this is going quite a ways beyond what he's done in the past. You're saying that Jorgenson was willing to kill someone who had nothing to do with it, just to get Carew," Sacks said.

Tony ignored Gibbs' expression at the fact that Sacks was saying almost exactly what he had said.

"We don't know if there's anything to it, but we've got to look into it," he said.

"And you'd like us to keep our mouths shut," Fornell said.

"Preferably," Gibbs said.

"Can do. Sacks is about the only person willing to talk to me anyway," Fornell said, smiling a little.

"Had you heard anything about Carew being missing?" Tony asked.

"Nope. Not even a whisper on my side," Fornell said. "Ron?"

Sacks shook his head. "No."

"Would you keep your ears open for someone talking about it?" Gibbs asked. "No one _should_ know."

"And if someone does, there's the question of why," Fornell said. "Sure."

"Thanks."

"How long will this go on?"

"Until we find him."

"Alive or dead?"

"Whatever is best," Tony said, neutrally.

"What does McGee want?" Fornell asked.

"Alive," Gibbs said.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Huh. Well, we'll keep our mouths shut and our ears open. Anything else?"

"Not at the moment."

"Was that worth driving out to Quantico?" Fornell asked.

"Maybe," Gibbs said.

"All right, well, we have work to do that is actually in our jurisdiction, so if you don't mind, we'll get back to it."

"Feel free," Tony said.

Fornell and Sacks got into their car and drove away, leaving Gibbs and Tony to walk back to their own car.

"Jorgenson wants back into federal politics," Tony said.

"Yeah."

"Isn't willing to take no for an answer."

"Yeah."

"I don't want to admit it, but there might be something to this."

Gibbs smiled slightly.

"Yeah."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"If Tim is right about all this _and_ he manages track down Carew, he's going to be insufferable."

"Because he'll be right?" Gibbs asked.

"Exactly!"

As they got in the car, Tony couldn't help thinking that, in spite of the fact that they were looking for Carew and that they didn't really have the authority to be doing it, this felt incredibly normal. They had a case. They were investigating it. It was just normal.

And that made it good, even in the midst of the complicated details.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim would like to have put off seeing what Abby and Ziva had found, but he knew he couldn't do that. Abby wouldn't accept it. So he went back to her lab.

"Abbs?"

"You're back!" Abby said, happily.

"I was just by the Metro station, Abby," Tim said, as she pulled him gleefully over to her computer. He saw Ziva rolling her eyes slightly at Abby's antics and smiled.

"But you're back and now, we can show you what we found!"

"Someone was looking at the record of the house being sold?" Tim asked.

"Yes!"

"Who?"

"His name is Zeke Balogh."

"That's a different name," Tim said.

"Hungarian," Ziva said, "but he was born here. His parents immigrated."

"And _he_ was looking at the record of sale? Who is he?"

"No one who has connections to pretty much anything. He's a mechanic out in Gaithersburg," Abby said.

"Wealthy? Maybe wanting to buy land for himself?"

"I doubt it."

"And _he_ was looking?"

"He put in the request."

Tim looked at information. It made sense, really. This guy probably had nothing to do with Carew's disappearance. He was probably paid to get into the records. It was possible, even likely, that he didn't even know why he had done it.

"I was thinking that we could go out and talk to him," Ziva said.

Suddenly, there was a leaden weight in Tim's stomach. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn't. He shook his head.

"No. Tony and Gibbs will probably be back soon. When they get back, you and Tony can go and talk to him."

"Are you sure you wish to delay?" Ziva asked.

"I should be getting the file from the CIA soon and I want to get going on that." Tim forced a smile. "You and Tony can handle it, can't you?"

Ziva smiled a little, but Tim could tell he hadn't quite pulled off the nonchalance.

"Tim, are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Tim looked at Abby. "See what else you can find out about this guy, okay?"

"Sure thing, Tim."

Tim nodded once and then left the lab, taking a deep breath to try and dislodge the weight.

"Tim?"

Ziva. She was clearly not fooled at all. He turned back.

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You do not _seem_ fine."

"I am," Tim said. "Why don't you call Tony and see where they are? I'll start prodding about Logan's file, if I have to."

Ziva still didn't look convinced, but she nodded and went up to the bullpen with him. He listened with half an ear as she called Tony. He was focused on his computer. The file from the CIA had arrived and he wanted to see what Logan looked like, what he was like as an agent.

"They will be back here in a few minutes," Ziva said.

"Good. Do you want to see Logan?"

"Yes. It is always good to know the enemy."

Tim smiled at that and put up the image. Logan looked extremely normal in his official photo. Ziva got up and walked over to the TV. She stared at him for a while in silence. Tim joined her. He had a young look to him, or rather, an ageless look. The kind of person you looked at and assumed he was young, but then, looked again and saw something else. He had rigid lines in his face that bespoke experience. His eyes were a pale, pale blue, while his hair and skin tone were strangely darker. He was someone who would be noticed but not suspected.

Ziva said nothing as she looked at him.

"What do you think?" Tim asked.

"I think...that I am glad you are not doing this on your own," she said.

"Why?"

"This is a man who is very skilled. You can see it in his face, in his eyes. If he has truly become one willing to kill, he would very likely succeed at what he wanted to do. I would not want you to face him alone."

"I wouldn't, either," Tim said.

Ziva turned back to him and smiled.

"I am glad that you admitted it."

"You really think I'm stupid enough to go off on my own after this guy?" Tim asked. "I might have done it if it was necessary, but I'm not that crazy."

"You are not crazy, but you might decide it was necessary when it was not. We will not leave you to do it alone."

"I know," Tim said. "Why do you think I asked for help? I wouldn't have bothered if I didn't think you'd do it."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, I'm going to print this off and take it down to Ducky. I'd like him to analyze this guy, tell us what the file doesn't."

"Very well. I will force Tony to do more work."

"Maybe he'll make _you_ drive, too," Tim said.

"He is not that desperate."

Tim grinned and then, printed off the file from the CIA. Ziva made copies of the photo so that Gibbs and Tony knew what he looked like, and Tim headed down to Autopsy, grateful to be away from the scrutiny.

In fact, he stopped just shy of the doors and sighed. He hadn't felt that unsafe feeling for a long time. Years. The feeling that only NCIS was safe, that there was nowhere else he could really _be_ safe. He probably shouldn't have given in to that feeling and just gone with Ziva to talk to the mechanic, but he felt that he had to.

Just this once.

Then, he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and walked into Autopsy, hoping that Ducky and Jimmy wouldn't notice his fear.

"Hey, Tim," Jimmy said, barely looking up. "Got something for us?"

"Well, I have a file, not a body," Tim said. "What are you doing?"

Jimmy and Ducky were both staring hard at a cadaver.

"Practicing," Ducky said, looking up. "Nothing that can't wait. You have a file? A file for whom?"

"A rogue CIA agent who is apparently a part of Levi's abduction. I was hoping that you could do some analysis, Ducky," Tim said.

"Analysis that is better than what the CIA analysts would have done?" Ducky asked. "I'm flattered, Timothy, but not even I would claim to exceed their skills."

"I know, but I don't really want just a regular psych analysis. I want to _know_ who this guy is. I know some extra information from someone who was there when he went rogue."

"A personal account would certainly help," Ducky said. "Dr. Palmer, you may as well assist."

Jimmy's eyes widened. "I don't really have any psych training," he said. "I wouldn't know..."

"Another mind bent to the same problem is another mind bent to the same problem," Ducky said. "You could be useful even if all you do is ask questions."

"Okay."

"So, Timothy, tell us what you can and then, we shall do our level best."

"Okay," Tim said. He began to describe what Daniel had told him.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

" _Who is that?" Tamara asked._

 _Darla followed her gaze and smiled._

" _His name is Levi. Nice guy."_

" _Did you date him?"_

" _No, but I've talked to him. He was in one of my classes. He hasn't really dated anyone...but I think he'd date_ you _."_

" _Me?" Tamara asked, blushing. "Why?"_

" _Haven't you noticed him looking at you?" Darla asked, grinning._

 _Tamara looked over at Levi who looked at her and then away to talk to his friends. She was startled._

" _His eyes are so strange," she said._

" _Yeah, but he's really nice. Don't let his eyes fool you. Go on! Talk to him! He's looking at you again."_

 _Tamara blushed again. Darla gave her a little push toward him._

" _Darla! Stop it!"_

" _Go!"_

 _Tamara walked over and suddenly, Levi's friends left him and they were standing awkwardly alone. Tamara tried not to stare at his eyes. They were so dark, basically black. It made it disconcerting to look at him._

" _Hi," she said._

" _Hi. I'm Levi."_

" _Tamara."_

 _An awkward pause._

" _Darla said you're a nice guy."_

 _Levi smiled and that gave a twinkle to his black eyes that made them less disturbing._

" _She did? That was nice of her."_

" _She also said that you'd been staring at me."_

" _I had been," he said. "You're nice to look at."_

 _Tamara blushed again._

" _What's your major?" she asked, grasping for something to say._

" _Secondary Ed. You?"_

" _Communication."_

" _Great! I'm not very good at communicating. You can give me pointers," he said, smiling._

 _Tamara laughed and then, they started talking more normally. By the time Darla came over to get her, Tamara was interested in seeing Levi again. He hadn't asked her on a date, though. So she smiled and started to walk away, ready to tell Darla she'd been wrong._

" _Hey, Tamara."_

 _She stopped and looked back._

" _Yes?"_

 _He looked nervous but he was still smiling._

" _I'd like to see you again. Would you like to go on a date?"_

" _With you?"_

" _Well, I'm definitely not asking you for Jason's sake," he said, gesturing to one of his friends._

" _Then, I'll say yes."_

 _His smile widened._

" _Tomorrow? Seven?"_

" _Sure."_

" _Great!"_

 _Then, Tamara left with Darla, unable to stop smiling._


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

"So what's this guy's name again?" Tony asked.

"Zeke Balogh," Ziva said.

"Okay. You can say it. I don't want to put him off by mispronouncing his name. ...unless you think he has something to do with this."

"Tim did not think so," Ziva said. "Abby is looking for more, but there does not seem to be anything about him that would link him to Carew."

"Okay."

They pulled up at a small auto shop, only one bay, and got out. As they headed for the bay, a man came out, dressed in coveralls. He had oily hands that he was wiping on a rag and his smile was open.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"Zeke Balogh?" Ziva asked.

"Yes." His smile faded a bit at how official that was. "Who are you?"

"I am Agent David, and this is Agent DiNozzo. We work for NCIS."

"What's that?"

"Navy cops," Tony said, helpfully. "We just need to ask you a couple of questions."

"About the Navy? Why?" Zeke asked, confused. "I work on cars, and I don't even like boats."

"No, not about the Navy," Tony said. "It's about a record request you made a few weeks ago."

Ziva stepped forward and held out the copy. "This is your signature, is it not?"

Zeke looked at it and swallowed nervously. "Yeah? So? It's public information."

"Yes, it is, and it is information requested shortly before the owner was attacked in his home and abducted," Ziva said.

Zeke's eyes widened. "What? You think I had something to do with that? No way!"

"Then, why did you ask for the information?" Tony asked. "No offense, but it doesn't look like you're rolling in the dough and that property would be expensive, even if it was for sale. Which it's not."

"I wasn't! I just... I was just curious, all right? It's a coincidence."

"Coincidence," Tony repeated and smiled at Ziva. "We should have brought Gibbs along. You know what Gibbs says about coincidences?"

"No."

"No such thing. Why did you look up that information?"

"If you keep lying to us, you will be arrested as an accessory to attempted murder and aiding and abetting a kidnapping," Ziva said, seriously. "And if we do not find who was responsible, then, you will be charged with those crimes. That will leave you in prison for the rest of your life! Is that what you want?"

"He never said anything about killing someone!"

"Who?" Tony demanded. "Who are you talking about?"

"I don't know his name. He asked me to look up a piece of property somewhere down in Virginia and said he'd pay me for it."

"Didn't you find that kind of fishy?"

"He said he wanted to buy some property but it was for a business and he didn't want anyone to know that he was moving on it. If a nobody looked it up, no one would think twice."

"And you believed him?" Ziva asked, skeptically.

Zeke ran his hands over his head.

"No, but I didn't ask any questions. He paid me really well. He told me where and I gave him what I found a couple of days later. I made more from that than from fixing his car. Like you said, I'm not exactly rolling in the dough here."

"He had repairs done here?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah. The car was a real clunker, but I got it working again."

"Do you have video of him?"

"Maybe. It's been a few weeks. I don't remember if I kept it. If I don't have any trouble, I don't usually bother keeping all the security videos. And he wasn't any trouble."

"Did he pay with a card?" Tony asked.

"Nope. All cash."

"You have a record of his car?"

"Yeah."

"Then, we will need to see it."

"Wait. Do you need a warrant for this?"

"Only if you refuse to show us," Ziva said.

"And considering you're facing an accessory charge, it won't be hard to get that," Tony added.

"Fine. Look, I had nothing to do with anything. All I did was look at the property. He paid me for my time. That's it!"

"Then, help us by telling us what you know and that will remain _all_ ," Ziva said.

"Okay. Come on back."

As they followed him into his shop, Ziva leaned over.

"He has nothing to do with this."

"Except that he saw the guy. You have the photo of Logan?"

"Yes."

"Good. Maybe we'll luck out."

"We can hope."

Zeke sat down at a cluttered desk and opened a file drawer. After a couple of minutes, he pulled out a receipt.

"Here it is. He had an '85 Cavalier. Gray, and it had seen better days."

Tony took the receipt. It wasn't the same name, and there was no license plate number. He was unlikely to have kept the car long-term, anyway. But it was information they hadn't had. One last test, though.

"Mr. Balogh, is this the man who asked you to look up the property information?" Tony asked, holding up the photo of Logan.

Zeke looked at it.

"Well, he looks younger in that photo, but I'd say it's the same guy."

"And have you seen him since then?" Ziva asked.

"No. It's not like we were friends. He was getting his car fixed. I'd never seen him before, and, except when he came back to get the stuff I'd found, I haven't seen him since. If I'd known what he wanted it for, I wouldn't have done it!"

"You said you didn't believe him."

"I didn't, but I didn't think he was going to kill someone! Come on. I've never been in trouble before. I've never even had a parking ticket! He was giving me some extra money for something that didn't seem like a big deal."

Tony looked at Ziva and she nodded slightly. He was telling the truth and he was telling what little he actually knew. It appeared that they wouldn't be finding anything more from him.

"All right, Mr. Balogh. Don't plan on taking any trips and we may have more questions for you," Tony said. "That's all for now. Thank you for your cooperation."

"Yeah, great. Fine."

They started to leave.

"Wait."

They turned back, and saw Zeke looking like he'd come to a decision. A reluctant decision, but a decision nonetheless.

"Do you need the money he paid?"

"You still have it?"

"Some of it. Not all. I used some of it to pay for repairs to my equipment. I don't know if you guys could get fingerprints or whatever off it. I've been handling it myself, but...if you need it..."

Ziva smiled sympathetically. For all his obvious irritation at their accusations, he clearly had a conscience.

"If you could give us one bill, preferably one you have not been touching as much, we may be able to get something from it," she said. "You would get it back when we finished."

"Okay." Zeke went back into his shop and came out a few seconds later with a hundred-dollar bill in his hand. He handed it over to them. "It's the last hundred I've got."

"Thank you," Ziva said, sincerely.

"You're welcome."

Then, Zeke went back into his shop and they got into the car.

"Clever guy, this Logan," Tony said once they were on their way back to D.C. "Get a random nobody to do your dirty work for you. If we didn't already have an idea of who was responsible, it would probably be hard to track Logan down."

"Yes. While we are on this side of D.C., we should stop and see if Logan is the person that Carew's neighbor saw. If he can hire one random person, he can hire many."

"Or he could be working with more than one person. If he's not the one calling all the shots, someone else could have hired a whole team," Tony said. "I don't think that this guy was one of them, but there's nothing that says only Logan is involved."

"True. Then, we should go there."

"All right."

They rode in silence for a few minutes.

"I am worried about McGee," Ziva said, suddenly.

"Why?"

"He was acting strangely today, after he came back from a meeting."

"A meeting? With whom?"

"I do not know. He just said he had to meet with someone and when he came back, he said it was by the Metro. But he seemed very unsettled, although he tried to cover it up. He said nothing was wrong, but something _was_ wrong."

"Call Gibbs and tell him," Tony said, after a moment. "Tim will have a harder time avoiding Gibbs' scrutiny than yours...or mine. We're too nice."

"Ha," Ziva said, scoffing, although she smiled. "Too nice."

"Okay. Not too nice, but he can put us off more easily than he can Gibbs."

"True. I will call him. Do you know where to go?"

"I can get us to the right area and then you can navigate."

"Very well."

Ziva pulled out her phone and called Gibbs.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

This time, the farm was eluding him. The physical pain was overtaxing his ability to ignore it. He lay there, his whole body shaking, and his mind searched for something to spare him the pain.

To his surprise, what he thought of wasn't something he'd thought of in many years, at least not while sane.

He almost couldn't get the words out at all, but he pushed to do it.

"Lachein samach...libi vayaguel k'vodi, af b'sari yishkon la-vetach."

He almost laughed that this verse of the Psalms was the first thing he'd thought of, but then, King David was someone he'd thought of before in conjunction with his own life. He struggled to get out the final two verses of the sixteenth psalm.

"Ki lo ta-azov nafshi lish'ol... lo titen chasid'cha lir-ot shachat. Todi-eini orach chayim. ...sova s'machot et panecha, n'imot bimin'cha netzach."

" _Take him back to his cell. If we keep pushing, we'll kill him too soon."_

The voice seemed to be coming from a far distance. He could barely hear the words, but they seemed to indicate a momentary reprieve.

" _And give him some water. Don't let him choke on it."_

The same cruel hands picked him up and dragged him back to his cell. They dropped him on the floor, but then, someone was there, lifting up his head.

" _Don't even think of trying something this time, Director."_

No sarcastic comments were coming to mind, this time. He just drank when they gave him water. He took what they gave him and said nothing. He didn't move when they left him on the floor again.

He lay there for awhile, until he could breathe relatively normally again. This time, he thought of another psalm, only this one he had always thought of, less as a song than as a prayer.

"Adonai..." He stopped for a long time. Was it really right of him to call upon the God he'd ignored for much of his life? But then, wasn't even David a terrible sinner begging for forgiveness? And what did he have to lose?

"Adonai," he began again, "al b'ap'cha tochi-cheini, v'al bachamat'cha t'yas'reini."

It would, of course, be justice if he did suffer the wrath of God, but it didn't hurt to ask for a reprieve. God had been known to be merciful on occasion, even to sinners.

"Choneini Adonai, ki umlal ani, r'fa-eini Adonai, ki niv'halu atzamai."

They hadn't yet broken any bones. These were skilled torturers. There would be very few marks on his body for anyone to realize how much pain he was dealing with, but the physical pain still didn't outstrip his grief.

"V'nafshi nivhaka me'od, v'ata Adonai ad matay. Shuvah Adonai, chal'tzah nafshi, hoshi-eini l'ma-an chasdecha."

He could pray to be saved, but really, saved for what? Right now, the _what_ didn't matter. Until he could get back to the farm again, he just wanted to be saved from the pain. Relief no matter what the end result was.

Once more, he pled.

"Hoshi-eini."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs hung up and looked over at Tim. He was sitting at his computer working on something, but he hadn't said a word in a while.

"McGee."

"Yeah, Boss?" Tim asked, not looking over.

"Tony and Ziva talked to the mechanic."

Now, he had Tim's attention.

"Yeah?"

"Logan was there. He paid Balogh to get the information on Carew's property. Balogh cooperated."

"I'm not surprised," Tim said. "He probably had nothing to do with it. Did they get anything else?"

"Maybe some prints on a bill, but no video."

"But he verified that the person who left his prints at Levi's place was also a person looking for information about it. That's another step."

"So why didn't you go with Ziva?" Gibbs asked.

"I don't need to go to every place, Boss," Tim said. "Tony and Ziva are really good at interviewing, better than I am."

"That's not why you sent them."

Tim raised an eyebrow.

"Why did I?"

"You tell me. Ziva said you'd been on edge since you had a meeting with someone, someone you wouldn't identify."

Tim took a breath and sighed.

"I knew she could tell I was kind of hiding something, but I'd hoped I'd hidden it well enough that she didn't worry."

"Nope," Gibbs said, glad that Tim was admitting there was something he was hiding.

Another sigh. "My friend, Daniel."

"Who?"

"From Morocco. The CIA agent I didn't know was a CIA agent," Tim said, smiling.

"What about him?"

"He's been in town. His dad died last week and he's been having some meetings before he goes back. I called him to ask if he knew anything about Logan. I figured that, if this was as big a deal as it seemed, he would know something." Then, Tim smiled slightly. "I know how you feel about coincidences, Boss, but this was the granddaddy of all coincidences. Daniel was the one agent on the team who survived when Logan went rogue. The only one. The reason he was in Morocco was because it was so traumatic for him that he almost quit. Carew let him choose his assignment, forced him to get help. Daniel told me about Logan and...it got to me. I suddenly felt like I used to...when I was afraid of leaving the building."

"You can't start staying here again," Gibbs said.

"I know that. Zahara would never let me anyway," Tim said and he smiled.

Gibbs was glad to see the smile. Tim's ability to smile about this was the difference between now and the past when he was ready to fall apart at any moment.

"I shouldn't have given in to that feeling, but I did. I was actually thinking of calling Dr. Hicks and asking him if I could have my meeting with him tonight."

"Good idea."

"Thanks," Tim said, a little wryly. Then, he sobered. "Logan is a scary guy, Boss. According to Daniel, he killed because he wanted to, not because he needed to, and Daniel said that he's the one to worry about, no matter who is ultimately in charge. He's the dangerous one, and I've had my share of experiences with the dangerous people. I let my past take over for a little bit."

"Call Dr. Hicks. Tony and Ziva are on their way back if you want to get that done before they get here."

Tim smiled. "They'll probably corner me anyway, but thanks, Boss."

Tim got out his phone and started dialing. Gibbs decided to go and check with Abby and Ducky to see where they were at. Ducky wasn't technically needed, but he knew that Tim had talked to him already.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

" _...and I was hoping that you might have an opening tonight or else someone who would be willing to trade,"_ Tim finished.

"Actually, I do have an opening, Tim," Dr. Hicks said.

" _You do? That's great."_

"Anything in particular that you need to talk about?"

" _Something that happened today... I'm... I was afraid to leave the building, didn't feel safe."_

Dr. Hicks was surprised. Tim hadn't admitted to that kind of feeling in a long time. It must have been something big.

"Anything more you can tell me over the phone?"

" _Did you know that Levi has been abducted?"_

"No," Dr. Hicks said, in great concern. "What happened?"

" _We're still figuring things out."_

"We?"

He could hear Tim smiling.

" _NCIS is investigating. No, we don't have jurisdiction. Yes, it's all because of me."_

"Well, it sounds like that's a long story. Will you have time?"

" _Yes. I need to make time. I can't let this happen to me again, and I know it could if I don't get it in hand."_

Dr. Hicks always appreciated hearing that kind of thing from his patients. Tim's determination to maintain his progress was heartening.

"Then, I'll be here, and you can just plan on coming right in. Let me know if something comes up."

" _I will. Thanks, Dr. Hicks."_

"My pleasure, Tim. Bye."

" _Bye."_

Tim hung up and Dr. Hicks leaned back, with his feet elevated. Levi was missing. It was a shock to hear because he could see very quickly how it could have happened. He knew that Levi and Tamara had gone to their cabin and that they weren't planning on being back for a few weeks. Someone else had obviously known that, too. And something about it had unsettled Tim. What that was, Dr. Hicks didn't know. Tim had been very specific about what he was feeling and what it was like. It wasn't a vague fear. It was that specific fear of being unsafe outside NCIS.

Dr. Hicks was glad that Tim was getting it in hand, and he was hopeful that it would be relatively simple to do so.

Well, nothing to do but get ready.

...and maybe be prepared to ask a few extra questions.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ducky looked up from his reading as his doors opened. He had anticipated Tim coming back down, but it was Gibbs.

"Jethro, what brings you down here?"

"Checking up on what you're doing," Gibbs said.

"With respect to Timothy's current case?"

"Yeah."

"I can see you're not convinced it's a good idea."

"I'm not." Gibbs paused. "You are."

Ducky smiled. "Yes, I am."

"Why?"

"Because I trust Timothy's judgment," he said, significantly. "I trust that he would not pursue something like this on a whim and so, even if I would not make the same decision, I will trust that there is a good reason for it."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, and Ducky knew he'd heard the slight censure.

"Have you found anything about Logan?"

"Not anything solid, but I am seeing quite clearly the kind of person he must be. Skilled, determined, experienced, and completely amoral. Even beyond the horrific last act, looking through his file, as redacted as it is, I'm seeing someone who had no compunction about anything he did. There were no black marks in his record, but there are descriptions that indicate someone who was going over the line many times, using unnecessary force, no concerns about collateral damage. I don't believe that this last event was a mental break of any kind. If there was a break at some point, it happened long before this. I believe it was calculated. Planned."

"Bottom line?"

"Timothy said that the survivor told him that Logan was the most dangerous and I'm inclined to agree. No matter who is ultimately responsible for this action, it is Logan who is the danger. He will be the one willing to kill, even if it's unnecessary. The fact that he was able to conceal such a mental aberration from the CIA analysts is proof enough that he is one to watch for."

"What if we find Carew?"

"And Logan is there?"

"Yeah."

"I would try to make sure that he's not in reach of Carew. I think he would be willing to kill him, just because he doesn't want to lose."

"Anything else?"

"Would it be too much to ask for you to try to see things from Timothy's perspective?"

Gibbs smiled. "When it comes to Carew, yeah, probably."

Ducky smiled as well. "I know that your feelings come from having to see all that Timothy has gone through, but perhaps you could also open your eyes to the way Timothy has changed. He is strong, Jethro. He has not been manipulated. He is helping Carew because he wishes to do something for him. I dare say that he has not told any of us the whole story, but his decision is something that you should respect, even if you can't agree with it."

"That much I've done."

Ducky smiled once more.

"I'm glad of it. Timothy is fortunate to have so many caring for his welfare. Just don't forget that Timothy is not someone who is unable to take care of himself."

"I hear you, Duck."

"Good. For now, I have nothing else to add, but I will continue to look into it as much as I can. I'm happy to have something to contribute."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Gibbs left the lab and Ducky picked up the file again. While the others could choose to focus on the identity of the person they were searching for, Ducky was choosing to focus on the fact that this situation was one in which the case was relatively normal. Yes, there were some complications, but it was normal. A person was missing and they needed to find him.

If they could just set aside the fact that it was Levi Carew, Ducky felt they'd all be much happier.

...and hopefully, more successful.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Zahara smiled as Tamara finished another story. All day, they'd been talking. Mostly Tamara sharing stories of her happier past, but Zahara had also been sharing some stories of her childhood.

Suddenly, Tamara laughed.

"I'm sorry. I've been talking your ear off, haven't I."

"That is fine. I am glad to hear it."

And it was true. Zahara felt she knew Levi much better than she had simply by knowing who he had been. Did Tim know this much detail? Probably not, but at the same time, he still knew Levi in a way very few people probably did. Now, he was trying to find the man Levi had been and give him a way to come out into the present. There was no other reason that would explain why Tim was so willing to do something for him. If only the others at NCIS could also see it.

Her phone rang and she smiled at Tamara as she answered.

" _Hi, Zahara."_

"Hello, Tim. What's up?" she asked.

Tim laughed. _"Have you been practicing?"_

"Yes. Was it right?"

" _Yes, it was."_

"Then, what is it?"

" _I just wanted to let you know that I'll be late coming home. I'm going to meet with Dr. Hicks tonight after work."_

"Tonight? That is not your usual time."

" _I know. I'll explain when I get home. I decided that I needed to tonight and he had space for me."_

"Are you all right?"

" _Yeah. I'm all right. Not great at the moment, but all right. I promise that I'll tell you when I get home. Don't hold dinner for me."_

"I will save something for you."

" _Thanks. I love you."_

"I love you. I will wait up for you."

" _You don't have to."_

"Yes, I do. You said you would tell me when you got home."

" _Point taken. I'll see you later."_

"Allah yemsek 'alā khīr."

" _Good-bye."_

Zahara hung up and smiled at Tamara.

"What is it?"

"Tim is going to be late coming home tonight, so we will eat together and I will save something for him to eat when he comes."

"Is it because of Levi? I'm sorry if I'm keeping your husband away from home," Tamara said. "I know how it feels to wait."

Zahara shook her head. "No. Tim meets with his psychiatrist regularly and he decided that he needed to go tonight instead of later in the week. I do not know why that is, but he will tell me when he comes home."

"He does? I wouldn't have guessed that," Tamara said.

"Most of the time, he does not seem to need it, but when he needs it, he needs it, and he told me that it is good for him to have this time to work on the hard things from his life. And he has had many hard things."

"Some because of Levi, I'm sure."

"Yes, but Tim does not speak of those times to me." Then, she smiled a little shamefacedly. "He would not speak of them at all if I did not push him to. I ask him to share these pieces of his life and he will often do so, but he does not always like to."

"Because he loves you," Tamara said.

"Yes," Zahara said, reddening a little bit. "He does. Now, what would you like to eat tonight? Would you like something American or something Moroccan?"

"I don't know really anything about Moroccan cooking. I've found it interesting to try it."

"Then, I will let you try something else. Are you familiar with couscous?"

"Only the stuff you can buy in a box at the store."

"That is what Tim said, except for a meal he had in Morocco. I will make you real couscous."

"Sounds wonderful," Tamara said.

"Good. You may help me and learn."

They went to the kitchen to start working.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"So, where are we at now?" Tim asked.

"We know that Logan is definitely involved, that he's a creepy CIA guy," Tony said.

" _Former_ CIA guy," Tim corrected.

"And we don't want to be in his sights."

"And we know that he is still working skillfully," Ziva added. "He used an innocent man to get information and if we had not found his fingerprints at the cabin, we may not have been able to figure it out. It is questionable whether or not Abby will be able to get any information from the bill that he gave us."

"And Fornell has heard that Jorgenson is trying to find a way back inside the Beltway."

"Wait, what?" Tim asked. "You didn't mention that before."

"Well, when we got back, you sent me out again with Ziva," Tony said. "Not my fault you didn't ask Gibbs."

Tim looked at Gibbs who smiled a little.

"Got distracted."

Tim just barely managed to not roll his eyes, although he was also a little chagrined that he'd let his own worries take precedence over getting updates on the case.

"What did he know?" Tim asked.

"Not much," Tony said. "It was a rumor that Jorgenson didn't accept being forced to leave and that he was just waiting for a chance to get back in."

"Waiting or looking?" Tim asked.

"Looking," Gibbs said.

Tim nodded.

"Okay. Then, what we need to do is see if we can track his movements," Tim said. Then, he stopped and thought about what he'd just said.

"I know that look, Probie," Tony said. "You've thought of something. What is it?"

"I don't know," Tim said, but he was lying. He didn't know if he wanted to share what he was thinking, but he knew what he was thinking. "Let me see if it coalesces into something coherent, okay?"

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah." Tim took a breath. "So tomorrow, that's where we'll start going. We can still see what else we might get about Logan, but if we're avoiding a BOLO, then, Jorgenson might be our best chance to track him down and we should be able to do _something_ with someone who's been trying to get back into politics."

They all nodded and Tim walked back to his desk to get his stuff. He didn't want to make Dr. Hicks wait for him.

"Tim?"

Tim smiled. He had known this was coming. He turned around. Gibbs had vanished, but Tony and Ziva were there, looking concerned.

"Yeah?"

"What was going on this afternoon?" Ziva asked. "And do not say it was nothing. It was not nothing."

"No, it wasn't," Tim said. "After all that stuff I learned about Logan...I had a moment where I was scared to leave the building again. You know...like I was before. I didn't want to advertise that, but I have an appointment with Dr. Hicks tonight and I'm going to talk to him about it before it becomes a real problem."

There was a pause and it looked like Tony and Ziva weren't sure if he was being honest.

"Really, guys. I called him while you were gone and changed my appointment so that I could do this tonight and not wait."

Tony smiled a bit. "Meaning that you want us to let you go so that you're not late?"

"Partly, yeah. But if you still want to ask more questions, you could follow me out of the building."

"I think we can do that, Tim," Ziva said.

"Good."

Tim grabbed his bag and his jacket and was secretly glad that he'd have someone with him as he stepped out of the building.

In fact, Ziva put her arm around his waist as they walked out the doors and Tim was surprised at how nice that felt. He smiled.

"Thanks, Ziva."

"You are welcome. Will you be all right?"

Tim stopped out on the sidewalk, with a brief glance at his CIA watchers.

"Yeah. I will. It's just temporary, but if I'm still feeling it tomorrow, I'll tell you."

"You'd better," Tony said. "There's no reason to keep that stuff from us. We know all about it."

"I know. I guess it was just one of those moments when I wished everything was normal," Tim said.

"Tim, this _is_ normal," Ziva said, almost gently, as if she was breaking some very bad news to him. "This is what life is like for all of us. So it is normal."

"You're right. It is," Tim said. "Most of the time, that's okay. Tonight...I just wish I could go back...and change things. ...but then, I wouldn't have met Zahara, and I think that's a good trade. That's what life is, I guess. Balancing out the good and the bad." He smiled a little. "I just never thought that the bad would be _so_ bad."

To his surprise, Ziva hugged him.

"I wish it was not that way for you, Tim, but I _am_ glad that you are here and happy."

"Most of the time," Tim said.

"Hey, who's _ever_ happy all of the time?" Tony asked. "I mean, even Abby gets in bad moods sometimes."

Tim laughed. "True. I'd better get going. I don't want to make Dr. Hicks have to wait for me and Zahara said she wouldn't be going to bed until I was home. So..."

"So we will see you tomorrow," Ziva said. "Good night."

"Thanks. See you tomorrow," Tim said.

Tony and Ziva walked away and Tim walked to his car, already feeling a bit better and headed for Dr. Hicks' office.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Tim drove to Dr. Hicks' office, his mind only half on his earlier fear. He was thinking more about the thought that had come to him as he was talking about Jorgenson. The others might resent that he didn't want to talk about it to them, but he needed to hear what Dr. Hicks thought about it.

He parked and hurried inside. The door to Dr. Hicks' office was open.

"Dr. Hicks?" he called.

Dr. Hicks leaned into view.

"Come on back, Tim. I sent Sherry home already so I kept the door open. I wanted to hear you come in."

Tim nodded and walked into the inner office, closing the door behind him.

"Have a seat," Dr. Hicks said.

He was already sitting and his own feet were propped up. Tim noticed.

"Bad tonight?" he asked.

"Yes, they are," Dr. Hicks said. "I've already taken some painkillers. I won't be driving home tonight." He smiled. "But I promise I'm not _that_ impaired."

Tim laughed. "Good."

"Now, tell me what's going on."

"Okay. Tamara Carew showed up at my house a few days ago."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

They'd left him alone long enough that his heart was beating normally and he felt like he could breathe without a struggle. What that had done was leave him feeling genuinely tired.

Did he want to sleep? It was dark outside, he now noticed. Actually, noticing anything was becoming a rarity. They were probably hoping that he would feel the pain more if they gave him time away from it. From a physical standpoint, that was likely the case, but the stronger he was, the easier it was to escape the physical.

Maybe, this was the mercy he'd pled for. Maybe God really did hear him and care enough to give him this reprieve from the pain. That was a good sign. Would God give him the only thing he really wanted? It was ridiculous, but he was going to die here anyway. He didn't know how long they'd wait, but that was surely the endgame. He had no illusion of being kept alive even in this state for long. His captor, whoever he was, ultimately wanted him dead.

So what did he have to lose?

He closed his eyes and began to say his own prayer, not a psalm this time. It was a hopeless, ridiculous prayer, but that didn't matter.

 _Bring Tamara back to life. I would give up my own life if she could have hers._

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"And it really took me by surprise," Tim said. "I haven't had that fear in a long time."

"Well, what is it about this particular situation that scared you?" Dr. Hicks asked.

"I don't know," Tim said, softly.

"Think about it, Tim. You've done well in trying to get help with it right away, but don't be afraid of analyzing your feelings. That's how you get them in control."

Tim thought about it silently. There was no question that it was about Logan. Even if he was right that Jorgenson was involved, it was Logan who had stirred these feelings of fear. Then, he thought about how Daniel had described him.

"Do you know Daniel?" he asked.

"No. Only from what you told me about him. I never spoke to him myself. Any therapy sessions he had were with another psychiatrist. And there are plenty of them around."

"Daniel said that Logan had planned what he did, that he was enjoying himself. And it made me think about..." Tim winced at the memory and faded to silence.

"What, Tim?" Dr. Hicks asked. "Give it words. Don't let it have power over you."

Tim took a breath and nodded.

"His name was Jubran. He would say it every time he wanted me to really hurt. And I knew that it was going to be my feet, the falaqā. During the sandstorm, the shamal, Suhayl called it...when he was attacking the compound, the other one left, the one who was in charge. I never knew his name. He left Jubran there. So it was just me and him in the room. And he started beating my feet as hard as he could and he was enjoying my pain. I could tell. I could see it in his eyes. And...when Daniel told me about Logan, that's what I pictured: the kind of man who would _want_ to cause pain and who would get _joy_ out of the suffering of others. It scared me that I could be going up against someone like that again. ...and I let that fear take over."

"Since you're here, clearly, you didn't let it completely take over. What didn't you do that you would have done?" Dr. Hicks asked.

"Abby found evidence of someone who might be involved, and instead of going to talk to him myself, I told Ziva to wait until Tony got back from Quantico and then go with him. Just so I could stay inside NCIS. I did work while I was there, but if it hadn't been for my being afraid, I would have gone myself so that I could talk to him."

"Okay. Does anyone else know?"

"Yeah. Gibbs knows. So do Tony and Ziva because I told them just before I left."

"Good. That's a good first step, Tim. Don't think that you have to hide those feelings when they come up."

Tim nodded. If he was honest, he was already feeling better. Talking about it, putting words to what he was feeling...and having the reassurance that it was okay.

"Now, Tim, I'm getting the feeling that there's something else going on that you haven't talked about yet," Dr. Hicks said.

Tim smiled weakly. "So does the CIA really do mind-reading experiments, then?" he asked.

Dr. Hicks chuckled. "You'd probably know that better than I do. So there _is_ something else?"

"Yeah. One nice thing about it is that it distracted me from my fear a little bit. ...but at the same time..."

"It's not making you feel any better?"

"No."

"Okay. Tell me about it."

"We think that Jorgenson is involved."

"Really."

"Yeah. We don't know for sure, but there are rumors that he's trying to get back into politics and Levi had something that he was holding over him to get him to leave me alone. With Levi out of the way..."

"I can see your reasoning, but how would he know about Logan?"

"I don't know. It's possible that Logan found him, not the other way around. ...and someone was doing the planning for him before. Maybe this is a long-term relationship. That part I don't know, but the CIA is trying to get Logan back and they don't want us to issue a BOLO because this is the first time Logan has been in their sights in years."

"Okay. I'm following you so far, but what is it that you were thinking of?"

Tim hesitated.

"Tell me, Tim. That's clearly what's on your mind right now."

"There's a way to track someone, a way that _I_ could track someone...without a BOLO. Without anyone knowing...except me."

Dr. Hicks' brow furrowed for a moment, and then, he shook his head.

"No, Tim. Don't go that route. Think about what that did to you before."

"But this could be a chance to make it do something good for once. To save someone instead of kill someone."

"Tim, from what you told me, the last time, you worked on it nearly without sleeping for days and it broke you. It broke you physically and more importantly it broke you mentally."

"But it worked," Tim said. "I don't know if we can find Levi before it's too late. I don't know where to go from here. ...but I do know that if I could build that program again, it would work. All I'd need is one glimpse and we could find him."

"And how long would it take you to do it?" Dr. Hicks asked. "And how would you get access to everything you'd need? And what about when you're done with it? You told me over and over that you'd never do it again because you said that _no one_ should have that kind of power, not even you. You shouldn't try to make an exception now."

Dr. Hicks sat up and carefully lowered his feet to the floor. Then, he leaned forward and met Tim's gaze very earnestly.

"Don't do this, Tim. I try not to tell my clients what to do or not do, but you're basically saying that you'd sacrifice yourself for Levi, and while that's admirable, you shouldn't. It's not necessary."

"It could be. I don't want him to go through the kinds of things I did. I don't care if he's gone through it before. I don't care that he's partially responsible for part of what was done to me. I don't want anyone to feel the way I did...the way I sometimes still do."

Dr. Hicks shook his head. "No. Tim, I understand your worry, and I share it. Of everyone you know, I'm the one who can best understand what you're trying to prevent, but I think you're letting that fear keep you from thinking about your other options."

"Like what?"

Now, Dr. Hicks smiled a little. "I can't believe I'm doing this, but I know that you've been heavily involved with the NSA for the last few years. Right?"

"Yes."

"You could even say that they might owe you for all the work you've done?"

"I don't know about that."

"Are you getting paid for this ongoing help?"

"No. I did at the beginning, but now, it's mostly just occasional tweaks, not the same kind of programming I was doing for them before."

"Then, I'd say that they owe you. I don't think you should sneak in to do it. I think you should go openly to Director Gellman and ask permission. It's not like you're really authorized to do any of this anyway. You might as well go all out in blurring jurisdictional lines."

Tim laughed and Dr. Hicks joined him for a few seconds.

"Seriously, Tim. You gave yourself an ultimate restriction because you didn't like what it did to you. You've never liked having to live in that gray area. If you try it now, it'll push you further than you think...because you'll be going there on your own, for the first time. It's not a good idea. Try something else. Anything else... but do it before you go the route of doing something you really don't want to do."

Tim wanted to argue, but there was too much accuracy to what Dr. Hicks was saying for him to deny it.

"I know you're right...but I'd hoped that you weren't."

Dr. Hicks patted Tim on the shoulder and then leaned back and elevated his feet again.

"Did you tell anyone else about this?"

"No. I...I don't really trust them to think about this stuff logically. At this point, I think they're more traumatized by it than I am. They'd just react. I mean, they're only helping to find Levi because I'm the one asking them to do it. Otherwise, they'd just say good riddance."

"Do they know how you feel about it?"

"Yes. About Levi, anyway."

"Have you told them about keeping in contact with him?"

Tim shook his head and looked down at the floor.

"No. Not even now. I know they wouldn't understand why I'm doing it."

"Do _you_ understand why you're doing it?"

Tim looked up.

"Yes. I do. I just don't have the words to explain it."

Dr. Hicks smiled. Tim knew he could probably _find_ at least a _few_ words to explain his thought process, but he just didn't feel like making the effort tonight. Dr. Hicks probably understood that. He didn't push.

"Okay. Now, what I'd like you to do is keep careful stock of how you're feeling tomorrow, particularly when you get back to NCIS. If that fear comes up again, tell your team, and if you think you need more help with it, call me. ...and promise me that you won't start down that path, Tim."

"I won't," Tim said, softly. "I don't want to, but at the same time..."

"You want to help. I get it, but it won't be good for you. So don't do it. Keep trying, using the resources you already have.

"Okay. Thanks, Dr. Hicks. Thanks for meeting with me early and for hearing me out."

"It's both my job and my pleasure to be of assistance, Tim. Now, go home and be with your wife."

Now, Tim smiled.

"She said she wasn't going to bed until I came home and talked to her."

"Then, do that, and I'll go home myself."

"Do you need any help out tonight?"

"No, I'll make it," Dr. Hicks said. "You just go home."

Tim stood up and nodded. Then, he left Dr. Hicks' office and drove back home.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Zahara was sitting up, waiting for Tim to get home. Tamara had retreated to the spare room, claiming that she was tired. Zahara was not tired. She was wanting to know why Tim had decided he needed to talk to Dr. Hicks tonight. He was very careful about his mental health, and if he was changing things up, it was because he was worried.

Then, she heard the keys in the door and she quickly got up and went into the kitchen to start warming up his dinner. Tim didn't ask her to do this for him, but she would never dream of not making sure he had a good dinner.

"Marhāba, Tim," she said as soon as the door opened. "Come and eat."

Tim smiled at her and set down his bag, removed his badge and locked his gun. Then, he walked over and kissed her forehead. Zahara hugged him.

"I'm so glad to be home," he said, softly.

"What happened?"

"Let me eat, first," he said. "I'd rather not talk about it while I'm eating."

"Very well. I made couscous for Tamara. She had never had the real thing."

Tim chuckled. "A lot of Americans probably haven't."

Zahara set out a plate and Tim dug in with gusto. She was always happy to know that Tim enjoyed what she cooked. He'd never complained outright about it, although he'd expressed a preference for one dish or another.

"What did you do today?" he asked as he ate.

"Tamara needed to speak. So I let her. She told me a lot about Levi, the man he was before. Do you know much of it?"

Tim shook his head. "No. I know what he's trying to be, not necessarily who he was in the past. Was he normal?"

Zahara smiled and shook her head. "Even with what Tamara said, I feel that he was always a little different, but it was different in a good way...and for Tamara, it became different in a bad way later."

Tim nodded. "Yeah. He felt that way, too. Only he would never admit it, probably not even to himself."

"I can see that. Is there anything that you need to tell Tamara?"

"No. Not really. We've got a new lead that we're going to start following tomorrow. Hopefully, it leads somewhere useful. I don't know how much time he could have left."

"You will find him," Zahara said, firmly. "I know that you will find him. And find him in time."

Tim smiled and reached over to squeeze her hand.

"I'm going to do my best."

Then, he finished eating and they both sat in silence. After he finished, he carried the plate over to the sink and rinsed it off. Instead of the usual ritual of him putting it in the dishwasher only for Zahara to remove it later, he set it in the sink and turned around.

"I'm probably going to have nightmares tonight," he said seriously. "I hope I don't, but I can't imagine that I'll be able to avoid it, not with what happened today."

Zahara stood up and walked over to him.

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened to me, but I learned some things that... I'm...unsettled."

"Unsettled?" Zahara repeated. That word, based on her understanding of it, did not fit with Tim's tone.

Tim smiled a little. "Okay. I'm scared. I'll admit it. I got scared today."

Zahara pulled him to the couch and they sat down.

"Why? What scared you?"

Tim sighed. Zahara knew that he didn't want to talk about it, but she appreciated that he was.

"One of the people involved in this...reminded me of what happened to me in Saudi Arabia...before Suhayl saved me. And there was a time when I was afraid of leaving NCIS because I didn't feel safe anywhere but there. And I felt that way today for the first time in years. That's why I went to Dr. Hicks tonight. I can't afford to let myself fall back into that mindset again."

Zahara hesitated. She knew that Tim hated to share details of what he had gone through. She knew that what he _had_ told her barely scratched the surface of the pain he had felt, the trauma he had barely lived through, the damage to his body _and_ his mind. ...but she also knew that she wanted to know more so that she could help him when these things came up. She had begun to see that they would, probably for the rest of Tim's life. Better that she know.

"Tell me, Tim."

He looked at her and then began to rub her hands between his.

"I don't want to," he said, softly.

"I know, but please, tell me. I am not asking for everything. What was it about this man that made you think of that time?"

"He killed people who trusted him, apparently just because he wanted to. There was a man who was in charge of beating me. The one who was the leader almost never touched me. It was...this other man. He beat my feet. He had done it before, but before Suhayl saved me, I knew he was going to do it because he wanted to. I would have to feel it and feel it and feel it because it wouldn't kill me, no matter how much I wanted it to. The damage it caused would never be fatal. I screamed, even though I didn't think I could. It was going to hurt...forever."

Tim stopped for a moment and let out a loud exhale. Zahara squeezed Tim's hands, encouraging him to finish without interrupting.

"And he was _glad_ that he was hurting me. That's what I was remembering. It was so awful that I remember every second of that time before Suhayl saved me. Before he'd decided whether or not he would save me, I begged him to save me or kill me, and I didn't care which he chose. It still scares me, Zahara. Once I thought of it, I couldn't forget it."

Zahara cupped her hand around Tim's cheek. He closed his eyes and she brushed her fingers over the scars around his eye, one of the many reminders of the life her husband had lived and still lived.

"I hate to see you afraid," she said softly. "But I am glad that you told me. I can see why you would have a nightmare from it. Perhaps, I could help you stop it before it comes."

"Doing what?" Tim asked, opening his eyes. He smiled at her, although the fear was still in his eyes.

"I will sing to you. That is what you asked me to do in the desert. You said that it would help you then. It will help now. Help you to sleep."

"I've never minded hearing you sing," Tim said, still smiling.

"Good. Are you ready for bed?"

"Yes. It's been a long day."

Zahara stood and pulled Tim to his feet.

"Then, come. Do not be afraid of sleep. Sleep is a good thing."

Tim put his arm around her.

"I know, and sleeping next to you is a _very_ good thing."

Zahara smiled. Together, they walked into the bedroom, got ready and then slipped under the covers. Zahara moved close to Tim and he put his arms around her. She could feel his heart beating too quickly. She could feel his anxiety and she thought of what she could sing to him that would help him relax and sleep without the dreams that plagued him. Given what he was remembering, she decided not to sing anything in Arabic. He didn't need that reminder. Then, she thought of a lullaby her mother used to sing to her. It was Spanish and she softly hummed the tune for a minute or two. Then, she began to sing the words very softly, just barely above a whisper.

"Arrorró mi niño,

arrorró mi sol,

arrorró pedazo,

de mi corazón."

She continued through the verses and back to the chorus, singing slowly and softly, wanting to help Tim relax so much that he would sleep through the night without dreaming of the horrible things he'd experienced. She paused once, thinking of the words to a verse that wouldn't really apply and into the silence, Tim spoke. Just two words.

"Te amo," he whispered and kissed her hair.

Zahara smiled. Tim's Spanish wasn't very extensive. His Arabic wasn't very extensive, but he did try.

"Te amo," she whispered back.

Then, she sang the chorus once more.

"Arrorró mi niño,

arrorró mi sol,

arrorró pedazo,

de mi corazón."

Tim's heartbeat was slow and steady. Zahara fell asleep hearing him breathe and feeling his heart.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Daniel sat quietly, waiting. It was late, but sometimes, that's what it took.

Another ten minutes and the door opened. The man coming out raised an eyebrow at him and then nodded. Daniel stood up and walked with him away from the building.

"So what's this about?" he asked.

"Marc Logan," Daniel said, bluntly.

"Logan? He's been out of sight for years. Why now?"

"He's back in sight," Daniel said.

"Wait a second. You were on his team...when it all went down. What do you need from me?"

"To know more about him."

"Why? What can you get from me that you can't get from his file or from what you know yourself?"

Daniel raised an eyebrow. That was a stupid question and they both knew it. Then, the man looked away from him.

"What do you want?"

"I know you wouldn't have known it at the time, but what about with hindsight?" Daniel asked.

Again, there wasn't a need to ask what he meant. Marc Logan's actions would automatically lead to people thinking about where it had come from.

"With hindsight, yeah."

"Meaning?"

"He liked killing things. Not people, although he never seemed bothered by it when it happened, but he'd kill animals, bugs, in a way that you knew he was enjoying the process. I remember once, we were in South America. There was this big spider that had come into our camp. Instead of just squashing it or shooing it away or something like that, he trapped it and then roasted it to death over the fire. The rest of us just thought he was weird, but he was always good at his job, so we didn't think much about it. At least, _I_ didn't. But..."

"But what?"

"But I requested a transfer after I watched him interrogate a guy. I don't think I need to give you the details, but I made a report of what happened and asked to be transferred to a different team. I never would have guessed he'd go off like he did, though. It's a big step to go from being overly harsh on the enemy to killing your allies."

"He doesn't really have allies, though, does he," Daniel said. "It's not about alliances. It's about using people until he doesn't need to."

"Yeah. That fits."

"One last thing," Daniel said.

"What?"

"Do you know of any places he would go in this area?"

"No. We weren't friends, you know. He was the team lead. That's all. I never spent time with him when I didn't have to."

"Okay."

They started to part ways. Daniel got ten steps away.

"Wait."

Daniel turned back.

"Yeah?"

"There's someone else you could ask...if you can find her."

"Who?"

"She was CIA, but she left years ago. Everyone thought that she and Logan were a thing, but neither of them would admit to it. If you could find where she went, you could ask her."

"Who is she?"

"Name is Janell Riggins. I don't know where she is, haven't heard from her since she left, but she was gone from the CIA before Logan disappeared."

Daniel nodded.

"Thanks."

"I didn't tell you this stuff, right?"

"Right."

"Good. And good luck. Don't let Logan see you."

"Not in my plans," Daniel said.

The man nodded and walked away. Daniel kept walking back to his car, but he felt the hairs on his neck standing on end. Logan was someone he would have been happy never to think about again, but he wasn't going to leave Carew in his hands. That was a place no human being should ever be.

Janell Riggins. Somewhere to go next.

But maybe it was time to get some sleep.

Daniel headed back to the hotel he'd been staying in to maybe get some sleep. ...or else stew about Logan more.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim woke up with a start, breathing in deeply as he escaped from the dream he'd been having. It was dark, but when he looked at his clock, he was glad to see that it was after four. He'd managed to sleep through most of the night without being disturbed by nightmares, and he hadn't screamed in his sleep, either. That was a definite plus. He looked at Zahara who was still sleeping deeply and he smiled. Nightmare or not, he still loved to see her. He loved to look at her and he loved that he was able to love her.

For a few minutes, he just lay there, looking at his wife, amazed that she _was_ his wife, grateful for the life he had. Then, as quietly and carefully as he could, he eased himself out of bed and walked out of the room, to the balcony. Jethro woke up when he came into the main room and padded over to him.

Quickly, Tim knelt down and petted him.

"Keep quiet, Jethro," he whispered. "We don't want to wake anyone up yet."

Jethro made some soft whuffling sounds in his throat but didn't bark. Tim opened the door to the balcony and sat down, staring out at the Metro area around him. Jethro settled down beside him, panting softly.

As Tim looked out on the world that was still mostly sleeping, he suddenly thought back to another time, another view. Back when he had been in Idaho, trying to recover from the physical and mental assaults that had almost killed him. He and Tony had been sitting out on the deck of the fancy house after he'd had a nightmare, and he had lamented not being able to have a normal life. Tony had told him that he needed to think of a new normal, a life that would still allow him to be happy, even if he couldn't have what he used to have. Ziva had said just the day before that what he had now was normal...for him. And it was true.

"That's what I have now, Jethro," he said softly. "A new normal that lets me be happy. It's not perfect, but no life is. What I have is...my normal. I have a wonderful wife. I have a home. I have a job. I have friends."

Jethro whuffled again. Tim chuckled.

"I have a dog, too. If there are still some things that I struggle with and that I wish were different, the good stuff makes up for it."

He sat there on the balcony in silence, staring out. He didn't sleep, but he did doze a little bit, feeling a breeze and Jethro resting his head on Tim's knee.

After a time, he felt arms around him from behind and a soft kiss on his cheek.

"How long have you been out here?" Zahara whispered. "I didn't hear you get up."

"I woke up after just after four."

"A nightmare?"

"Yeah, but I slept through most of the night without one," Tim said. He took hold of her left hand with his left hand, clicking their rings together. "I can't complain about that."

"You could."

Tim smiled. "I guess I could, but I won't. I got enough sleep and you kept the nightmares away for most of the night."

He turned around so that he could see her.

"I love my life, Zahara," he said. "I love you, and I love what I have, the people in my life. I don't regret it. I might wish that I could have everything be perfect, but I am happy, even if I can't be happy all the time."

Zahara knelt down so that she could look into his eyes. She looked searchingly at him, checking to see if he was trying to hide anything from her. He met her gaze without flinching. Again, she reached out and brushed her fingers over the scars around his left eye. Tim reached out and cupped his hand on her cheek. Then, he leaned forward and kissed her.

"I am glad that the nightmare did..n't ruin your day," she said.

"It didn't," Tim said, smiling at her _almost_ natural contraction.

"Then, it is time for you to run if you are going to do it before you go to work."

Tim took a deep breath and stood up, disturbing Jethro from his comfortable position.

"You're right."

They walked back into the main room and Tim headed for the bedroom to change into his running clothes. He decided that he would keep his run short so that he could go over to the NSA before heading to work. He wanted to see what was possible, if there was some way to track down their only solid lead before it was too late.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Gibbs was just having his morning coffee (the first cup, at least) when his phone rang. He looked and saw that it was Tim. He answered quickly.

"What is it, McGee?"

" _Boss, I just want to let you know that I might be a little late. I have to make a stop first."_

"Where?"

There was a long pause. Gibbs didn't like it when Tim didn't answer simple questions quickly. It either meant that he wanted to lie or that he wasn't sure what to say.

"McGee. Where?"

" _I'd...rather not say. Not over the phone. I'll tell you when I get to NCIS...maybe."_

"Maybe?"

" _We'll see. I just didn't want you to worry when I wasn't there. I knew that was a possibility."_

Possibility? Gibbs knew that it was almost a certainty where Tim was concerned. He had disappeared far too many times for them to ever _not_ worry if he was unexpectedly gone. At least a little bit.

"Thanks," he said.

" _You're welcome. I'll be there. I just might be a little late. It depends on how long it takes."_

"All right."

" _Okay. ...um... Bye then."_

Gibbs chuckled.

"Bye, Tim."

" _Yeah. Okay."_

Tim sounded embarrassed as he hung up. In a way, it was nice to hear Tim being so normal. No chaos, no shock, nothing. It was just Tim feeling kind of silly about talking on the phone and not knowing how to finish the conversation.

As he went back to his coffee, Gibbs thought back over the years. It had been over ten years since Tim's life had taken its corkscrew path, and Gibbs still regretted that his choices had affected Tim so horribly. Even though he was fine now, it had taken far too long, too much suffering, too many moments of pain. He didn't bring that up anymore because he knew that Tim didn't want to talk about it, but he still thought about it and still wished he could go back in time and not ask Tim to hack the CIA. Would Tim even have known Carew's name had he not been asked by his boss to break into CIA files?

He finished one cup and poured another, letting his mind wander to another topic. He wished that Tim didn't want to help Carew. He would rather have left all that to the side as much as Tim's life allowed, but for whatever reason, Tim wasn't sharing the real reason for his determination. What he'd told Gibbs wasn't a lie, but it wasn't really the truth. There was something that was pushing Tim, not that he was under duress. Gibbs was positive that this was a willing decision. Tim _wanted_ to find Carew, and Gibbs really wanted to know why. There were little things that Tim had hinted, but the predominant reason was something he hadn't shared with any of them so far as Gibbs knew.

But as long as this was what Tim wanted to do, Gibbs would help him do it and hope that things worked out for the best.

And for now, it was time to leave. Gibbs decided that he would stop to pick up his third cup of coffee on the way in to work.

It was just shaping up to be that kind of day.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim pulled into an available parking space in the NSA parking lot. He was relatively close to the building, thank goodness. He had enough to do today not to have to worry about sprinting across the lot to get inside in good time.

He walked inside and headed for the security checkpoint.

"State your business," said the security guard.

"I need to speak to Director Gellman. I realize that I don't have an appointment, but it's fairly important. If you could ask if he's available. I'm NCIS Special Agent Tim McGee."

The man raised a skeptical eyebrow. Tim smiled. This wasn't the same person he'd interacted with before, but the reaction was the same.

"Just call up. If he's available, he'll let me in."

The security guard did and then, there was that same shift from skeptical to surprised. He hung up and handed Tim a visitor pass. Tim took it and went to Director Gellman's office.

"Director Gellman is in a meeting," the assistant said when Tim arrived. "If you could just take a seat. He said it wouldn't take long."

"Thank you," Tim said and sat down.

He waited for a few minutes in silence, hoping that it wouldn't be too much longer. Then, the door opened and Director Gellman was there with a few people Tim didn't know. That was a relief. He knew the director of every federal agency at a glance, just in case. It didn't mean that they weren't important people, but Tim had limited his paranoia to the directors...and the assistant directors.

Director Gellman met his gaze but said nothing about him or to him while the others were walking out.

Once they were gone, he turned to Tim.

"Agent McGee, you have a nasty habit of surprising me. I don't like being surprised."

Tim smiled a little.

"I wouldn't do it if it wasn't necessary. Last time wasn't too bad, was it?"

Director Gellman smiled a little himself.

"What about this time?"

"I don't know, actually. It is more important, though."

"Okay. Long?"

"I don't _think_ so, but I suppose it might be if you have lots of questions."

"All right." He turned his attention to his assistant. "No calls unless they're urgent."

"Yes, Director."

"Come in, Agent McGee."

Tim stood and followed Director Gellman into his office.

"Now, what is this about?" Director Gellman asked as he gestured for Tim to sit down.

"First, are you aware that Levi Carew is missing?" Tim asked, bluntly, wanting to see what reaction Director Gellman made.

"No," he said, raising an eyebrow. "How long has he been missing?"

"Going on three weeks."

"And I didn't know. I'm disappointed in myself."

Tim smiled.

"How do _you_ know about it?"

"His wife asked for my help and I'm giving it."

"How are you doing that while doing your job?"

"I made it part of my job," Tim said.

Another raised eyebrow. "I wasn't aware that NCIS had jurisdiction over a civilian or even over former CIA directors."

"It doesn't. I'm doing it anyway."

"Ah. That makes more sense. I've often thought that I wouldn't want to get in your way once you'd decided something was necessary."

Now, it was Tim's turn to raise an eyebrow. He was momentarily distracted.

"Why is that?"

"Because you have a thick streak of steel in you, Agent McGee. Anyone who can read you at all would know better than to try to stop you from doing what you'd decided needed to be done."

Tim thought of all the effort Tony and Ziva had put into trying to convince him that he shouldn't find Carew. They definitely didn't feel the same way.

"While I appreciate being told about this, I have to ask _why_."

Tim took a breath.

"Well, I'm no good at trying to be manipulative. I have to be straightforward. I need your help. To find him."

" _My_ help?"

"The NSA's help," Tim said. "I need to use your...resources."

"Why? I'm assuming that you're using NCIS resources and, while not as extensive as other agencies', I'm sure that they're adequate for normal criminal investigations, which this seems to be, no matter who the victim is."

"It is criminal, but it's not normal."

"Why?" Director Gellman asked again.

"Because of who we think took him."

"Who is that?"

"There is one we're sure of and one we suspect. Have you heard of Marc Logan?"

"The name sounds familiar. Who is he?"

"A former CIA agent who went rogue and the CIA has been trying to track him down for years."

"What did he do?"

"Murdered his whole team, except one who got away."

"Reason?"

"As far as they know, because he wanted to and was bored."

"Of course. Can't be simple, can it. Okay. And who is the other one?"

"Jorgenson."

Director Gellman furrowed his brow and was silent for a few seconds.

"Claude Jorgenson. The former director of the FBI."

"Yes."

"Why him?"

"He wants back in."

"How would abducting Levi Carew help him with that? He's not in politics at all anymore, and people have tried to make him be. The FBI finally learned after the third or fourth agent was sent back, usually with injuries if they were too pushy."

Tim nodded. "He has something on Jorgenson. I don't know what it is, but he said that, as long as Jorgenson wants in federal politics, he can't without risking Levi saying something."

"It must be big if it's lasted this long."

"Yeah."

"Well, that does give a reason. How sure are you?"

"Not very. But Logan is supposed to be pretty good at his job, and if he wants back in, too, maybe Jorgenson promised him the chance."

"Again, possible. How do you know Logan is involved?"

"We found fingerprints at the place where Levi was taken. We also found a person he hired to look up information on the house."

"That was sloppy of him. Not what I'd expect of a skilled and intelligent former CIA agent."

Tim smiled. "Well, when you blow up a house, you probably assume fingerprints would be gone."

"And that's not true?"

"Not always. We found more than one set of fingerprints, though. And we know that Levi and Tamara never had visitors there. They went there to be completely alone."

"So you're asking me to spy on U.S. citizens."

"Yes, but Logan has pretty much ruined any chance he has of being a free U.S. citizen should he be caught, and... if I'm right about Jorgenson..."

"You don't care about that, either," Director Gellman finished.

"No, I have to admit that I don't."

"I don't blame you, but you're still asking me to do something that I'm not supposed to be doing. Why not a BOLO?"

"The CIA has said no because they feel that no matter how quiet the BOLO is, Logan would find out about it and disappear again. They don't want to lose this chance, and I don't blame them based on what I've learned about him."

"Agent McGee, you're putting me in a difficult position. I'm not supposed to pick and choose which laws I feel like following. People don't like it when the NSA does things like that."

"I know."

Director Gellman sat back, never breaking eye contact. Tim got the feeling he was being thoroughly analyzed, and any help he could get from the NSA might depend on whether or not he passed muster.

"Agent McGee, I wasn't the director of the NSA when your involvement with black ops first began."

"I know that, too."

A faint smile.

"But I am aware that you have a particular skill that you could be utilizing in this situation, one that involved access to NSA servers...which you currently have. Legitimate use or not."

"Yes, Director," Tim said.

The brow furrowed again.

"Then, why aren't you just doing that instead of asking permission?"

"Because I don't want to," Tim said, simply.

"Would you mind explaining why?"

Tim paused. He little relished explaining his ongoing psychological problems to someone he didn't really know all that well and was in the position that Director Gellman was in. He respected the NSA director for his straightforward manner, but this was going farther. Still, he had a legitimate concern since Tim was, in effect, asking him to break the law.

"The program you're talking about," he said, finally. "I've done it twice. Even after all these years, I could still do it, but the first time was under duress. My family was threatened. I was pushed to the limit. The second time, I pushed myself, and I had a mental breakdown from it...along with some other related things. When I recovered, I told myself that I would never do it again. Not for any reason. It's a dangerous weapon to have. You feel all-powerful, all-knowing because it takes so little effort to find someone. You have access to nearly every microphone, video camera, satellite, and it's condensed into one program. No one should have that power, not even me. The temptation to do it is there, but I know what it would do to me if I tried again. In order to get it done in time to be useful, I'd have to push myself to the limit again, and I'd be doing because I wanted to, not because I had to. Director, I don't know how you live in the gray area that your job requires. I can see that you do it and it doesn't seem to bother you. It bothers me. I want things black and white. I know that they aren't, but I _want_ them that way. I try to live a life that is black and white. There are grays that sneak in...and sometimes I invite them in, but mostly, I want my life to be...normal. That's why I'm asking for your help and not just making that program."

Director Gellman wasn't as stoic as Gibbs, but Tim still had a hard time reading him. He sat where he was, seemingly unhurried, not speaking. Tim had said his piece and he really didn't want to go into any more detail than he already had.

Then, Director Gellman did something that Tim would never have expected of him.

He started talking about himself.

"Agent McGee, no one ever gets into a job like this thinking that they're going to step over the line. Well, probably some do, but most don't. I'd been in the Army for a number of years before coming to the NSA, but I didn't approach the job with the idea that I would be living in this gray area you're talking about. Certainly, at the level I am, there's a lot of gray, but that's less because of me and more because the world itself is far more gray than it is black and white. While you have had the negative side of that grayness, I've seen mostly the positive side. I've seen the successes we've had simply because we have a somewhat free hand in doing our jobs. So for me, there's no difficulty in living in the gray parts of the world. I do so willingly. Far be it from me to tell you how you should live your life, but I think you'd be better off if you stopped looking at the gray area as inherently bad because really, what you're doing is saying that gray equals black and it doesn't. Gray is both black _and_ white."

Tim laughed because he suddenly remembered a conversation about this same thing from years before.

"I've been told that before," he said.

"And not really taken it to heart, I see."

"Not really. I accept it, of necessity, but I don't like it."

"Well, I can't tell you to change your mind. I just want you to be aware that not everyone sees gray like you have chosen to do. As much as I can without knowing your full history, I understand why you would have that outlook, but you should try to open your mind to the possibility that _your_ negative experiences are not the be all and end all of... being gray."

Tim only nodded. While interesting, he was more concerned with the reason he had come than this conversation. Director Gellman appeared to feel the same way. He leaned back again and stared at Tim for another long time in silence. Then, he sat up and leaned forward.

"Agent McGee, I'll do what you've asked. What I need from you is Marc Logan's file. It's hard to search for someone without some indication of who he is. So please see that I get it as soon as possible. Also, I'd like the exact coordinates of the two places he has definitely been, as well as the dates on which he was in those locations. That's a valuable beginning. I won't need anything for Jorgenson. I have my own file on him."

Tim raised a questioning eyebrow and Director Gellman's mouth quirked into a slight smile.

"There are some questions I won't answer, Agent McGee."

"Understood."

"Good. Understand also that I'm not making any guarantees. I don't know if this will work, and I don't know how long I can give you this kind of help. If there's _any_ pressure on me to stop, coming from legitimate sources of course, then, I stop. I'm not going to advertise this, and if it all pans out, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't advertise my role in this at all. I don't want any credit."

"And you can keep the searches from warning Logan?"

"Again, I can't make any guarantees, but this won't be a BOLO, and I doubt that Logan is omniscient. So it'll be more likely that this will work out without his having any idea."

"Thank you. I'll get the information to you as soon as I'm back at NCIS."

"Good. Now, one last question."

"Yes?"

"Why are you doing this?"

Tim smiled. Everyone asked that question.

"Levi Carew needs the help. That should be enough reason."

"It should be, but I find it hard to believe that it's your only reason, and I find it even harder to believe that it's your main reason. Given what I know about what Carew did to you, if it was just a matter of him needing help, you'd simply pass it off to someone else. Even if you thought he deserved to be helped, you wouldn't be doing it yourself. Why are you doing this?"

"Why does it matter? I am, and I intend to see it through. What difference does it make what my reason might be?"

"I'll admit that it's mostly curiosity. I like knowing," Director Gellman said. "But also because I'm sticking my neck out here, and I want to know why I am. No one else would dare do what you're doing."

Tim hesitated for another second, but then, he nodded.

"What do you know about Levi Carew's life?" he asked, although he was pretty sure he knew the answer, at least in part.

Director Gellman shrugged. "Very little. He's the epitome of a closed book. Closed and locked as far as most of the world is concerned."

"I've opened that book. At least to some degree. I've seen something of who he was. He became what he's been out of necessity, not desire. Now, he's trying to change. He doesn't know if he can do it. It's hard and he's wanted to give up, but he's trying to be the person he was before. And that person was a really good person. I don't want to see him lose all that now. That's why."

Another long silence while he was scrutinized by the NSA director. Tim let him do all the staring he wanted. This was important, and if Director Gellman needed to know if he was being genuine, let him look. Tim knew that he was being honest. He wasn't giving all the details, but he was being honest.

"All right. As soon as possible, Agent McGee."

"Yes, sir."

"All right. That's all I have. Was there anything else you wanted from me?"

Tim smiled. "No. What I've got from you is more than I could have hoped for."

Director Gellman stood up and put out his hand.

"Then, good luck. You'll know when I know."

"Understood."

Tim left the office, walked out of the NSA and headed for his car. He noticed his CIA guards and walked over to that car.

"Would it be too much to ask that you not report this stop?" he asked.

The guard driving raised an eyebrow.

"Would it help if I said please?"

He sighed. "I'll consider it. Where to now, since you're right here?"

"NCIS. I have work to do."

"All right. You realize that the roads are going to be horrendous at this time of day."

"I do. Couldn't be helped."

Another sigh. Tim smiled and went to his car. He got in and headed for NCIS, calling Gibbs on the way.

He knew he would be late.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Gibbs was waiting for Tim's arrival. He'd already sent Tony and Ziva down to talk to Abby, hoping that there wouldn't be any reason to worry, but he also wanted to be able to confront Tim on his own. In the past, Tim had told him things he wasn't willing to tell Tony and Ziva, feeling a need to protect them. Hopefully, this wouldn't be a case where there was any need for it, whether real or perceived.

The elevator dinged and Tim got off. Gibbs stood as soon as he saw Tim. Tim looked at him and then nodded and got back on the elevator. Gibbs suppressed a smile and walked over to join him. He sent the elevator back down but stopped it only seconds after the door closed.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"I can't tell you, Boss," Tim said.

"Why not?"

"Because the person I was talking to could get into big trouble if anyone ever knew that he'd agreed to help me." Tim paused and then he smiled a little. "And you have a rule about secrets. The best thing is to keep it to yourself. That's what I'm doing. He asked that I not tell anyone and I'm not telling anyone. My guards know where I went, but I even asked them not to report it."

"What help?"

"We can't issue a BOLO for Marc Logan, but we need some way of tracking him," Tim said. His eyes darkened for a moment, and Gibbs wondered what he was thinking about. "This person promised to try. He isn't making any guarantees, but he's going to try to help me get some information. As soon as I get to my desk, I'm going to send him the file we have and hope that it's enough."

"How many different people are you getting help from?" Gibbs asked.

He was surprised when Tim actually smiled sheepishly.

"Not counting you guys? Three. Unless you're talking about more than finding Levi. Then, the number goes up."

Gibbs rolled his eyes a little, but he was surprised at how widely Tim was casting the net in his efforts to find Carew. The effort Tim was expending was a little concerning. The longer Carew was missing, the less likely it was that they'd find him alive.

"What if he's dead when you find him?" Gibbs asked, deciding to address it explicitly, rather than hope for the best.

"I'll be disappointed," Tim said, raising an eyebrow. He clearly wasn't sure why Gibbs was asking.

"Just disappointed?"

"What are you trying to get at, Boss?" Tim asked.

"You know how unlikely it is that he's still alive after this long?"

"No," Tim said, sounding almost stern. "I don't know that and neither do you. You're comparing this to normal situations and it's not a normal situation. I am not giving up on this until we know one way or another, and yes, if Levi is dead when we find him, I'll probably be upset. I don't care that you won't be, that you're probably _hoping_ for it. I don't need you to prepare me for that possibility. I already know it exists."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you care so much about him, Tim? Don't give me that crap about him needing help. It's not about that for you. It's not even about you promising to help him if he needed it. This goes beyond him trying to change. What is it? Because the things you're doing now are beyond a person needing help. This is more like what you did for us."

There was a slight smile. "Are you jealous, Boss?"

"McGee!" he said, more than a little irritated.

"Are you ready to really hear what I have to say? Can you open your mind enough to understand me or are you asking just to contradict me again?"

Gibbs was annoyed but at the same time, he could see that this was something Tim would refuse to explain unless he felt that Gibbs would let him. This wasn't about making an argument. This was something Tim felt so deeply that he wasn't willing to share it with anyone he didn't trust to accept it.

"I'm listening, McGee," he said more calmly.

Tim nodded and sighed.

"All the reasons I've given you are why I'm doing it, but you're right. There's more. There's another reason and it's the most important one as far as I'm concerned. It's the reason that makes the others superfluous. I would help Levi even without those other things, even if he wasn't trying to change. I would still want to help him. There's something I owe him that I can't repay, just like he feels he owes me something he can't repay. I just haven't told him how I feel."

"What's that?"

"He kept me from turning into him or, worse, into someone like Marc Logan, willing to kill for no reason. Every time I think about it, I remember what he said to me."

"About what?"

"When I broke for the first time. I was going to kill my handler, get revenge for everything she had done to me, and I _wanted_ to do it and I was going to do it. He stopped me when there was no earthly reason why he should. If all he really cared about was stopping them, it wouldn't have mattered who killed her. It could have been me and I would have done it. I almost did, but he would not allow it. And I can still hear his voice, the words he whispered in my ear when I was falling apart at the seams."

"What did he say?"

"'You don't have to become me.'"

Gibbs raised an eyebrow in a silent question. This was the lynchpin of what was driving Tim, and he wanted the full explanation. Tim met his gaze without flinching. What he was about to say could not be contradicted, Gibbs saw. Tim would not accept contradiction. It would be like spitting in his face if someone tried.

Gibbs just gestured and Tim nodded again.

"I didn't get it back then. And then, I didn't really think about it all that much, but the last year or so, I have. I've thought about it a lot. When I see my wife in the kitchen because she insists that I need a square meal." Tim smiled. "When I get up in the morning and see her sleeping. When I go running with my dog. The life I have right now, Boss, is one that I have because Levi Carew refused to let me make a decision I could never have recovered from. It's been hard enough just knowing that I helped track down people and watched them killed. If I had deliberately shot my handler... I couldn't have made it. I couldn't be the person I've always been if I had killed her. Levi Carew saved my _soul_ that day because he didn't want me to be the kind of person he felt _he_ had to become. He told me once that he'd never wished that someone had done the same thing for him, but that was because no one did it to him. He did it to himself, deliberately. He knows how it feels and I could have become him. I could have become worse than him. He didn't allow it and...I feel that I have to do what I can to help him get the life he wants to have now. I _have_ to. Not because anyone is forcing me, but because it's the only way I can truly show my gratitude for what he did. And I will do _anything_ that I have to do to save him if I can."

Gibbs wanted to say that Tim didn't owe Carew anything, that the fact that Carew showed one moment of humanity in the midst of breaking Tim down didn't absolve him of everything else he'd done. He wanted to shake some sense into Tim, tell him that he would never have been like Carew, that he should just let Carew go and live his life without thinking about him.

He wanted to say all that, but he didn't. He understood that Tim wouldn't listen to what he had to say, and Gibbs could even acknowledge that it wasn't his life. It was Tim's life and that was the important thing. Tim had trusted him enough to tell him how he felt, and now, Gibbs knew that he had two choices: to break that trust by doing exactly what Tim had feared he would or support Tim even if he didn't necessarily agree with him.

"Okay," Gibbs said.

That was all, but he saw the relief in Tim's eyes.

"What now?" Gibbs asked.

"Now, you let me get to my desk so I can send Logan's file to...the person I'm sending it to," Tim said with a bit of a smile.

Gibbs smiled, too, and then turned the elevator back on. It went back up to the bullpen and he watched as Tim hurried over to his desk and started working. In a way, even though he hated that they were making all this effort for Carew, he was glad to see Tim working normally and acting normally. He wasn't really suffering. He was worried, but not tormented as he'd been far too often. All in all, even if he disagreed with Tim, he was glad with the way things were going in general.

Now, it was just a matter of seeing if they could make any of the information they'd gathered turn into something substantial.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

They'd left him alone for long enough that he could get to the farm again.

He was back to walking along the track beside the canal. Was he feeling wind? He smiled and looked at the trees lining the canal. They waved back and forth. Yes, there was a breeze. A cool breeze.

In the past, he'd wondered why it was a farm he'd chosen for his escape. He didn't remember consciously choosing it. His father had used a forest trail, winding amongst the trees, but he had always used a farm. Wide open. Lots of space around. And the pleasant sound of water flowing in the canal.

How close was he to the end he sought? He'd never made it there before. He didn't know what it should look like.

He did know who he hoped was there, though.

He continued along the path, knowing he was getting closer.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Well?" Tim asked, almost as soon as he stepped into Abby's lab.

Tony raised an eyebrow.

"You're a little eager for someone who was late to work today," he said.

Tim smiled. "I had a meeting."

"With whom?"

"Can't share that, unfortunately. It's one of the requirements, but I promise that there were no deals beyond that I wouldn't say anything. It might not pan out, but it's another avenue."

"Are you sure that this is safe, Tim?" Ziva asked, seeming very concerned. "I do not like you getting yourself into something without help."

"I promise, Ziva," Tim said, smiling. "Cross my heart and hope to die. This isn't a trick. It's just an anonymous source and it has to stay that way. So have you found anything about Jorgenson?"

Abby tried to look annoyed, but she couldn't. She grinned.

"He hasn't been hiding his movements at all. I had to call in some favors since we're not exactly doing this kosher-like."

"I appreciate it," Tim said.

"You'd better," Abby said, severely. "So Jorgenson's address is in New Jersey, but lately, he's been using his credit card pretty far from home."

"Where?" Tony asked. "Here?"

"Well, here, but also another place."

"Where?" Tim asked, eagerly. Maybe the NSA wouldn't be necessary at all.

"A gas station."

"Which one, Abby?" Tim asked.

He could see that she was trying to get him frustrated, but he just wanted her to share her information. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Abby, get on with it," Gibbs said from behind him.

Tim was grateful because Abby would always listen to Gibbs, but she didn't always want to listen to Tim.

"Okay, okay. Boston."

"Massachusetts?" Tim asked. "That's a long way to have transported..."

"No. _South_ Boston. It's in Virginia." She brought it up on a digital map.

"It is not far from where the cabin was," Ziva said, leaning forward.

"Not very far at all," Abby said. She put up a dot on South Boston and then put another dot on the Carew address. The distance was maybe twenty or thirty miles.

"How often has he been getting gas there?" Tim asked.

"Four times in the last month. Considering he lives in New Jersey, that's a lot of times to be buying gas in a tiny town in Virginia."

"What about before that?" Tim asked, curious now.

"Why before that?" Abby asked. "Even if there was advance planning, would he need to be down there?"

"I don't know. Just a thought," Tim said.

"A thought about what, Probie?" Tony asked. "I don't like it when you start thinking without sharing."

Tim smiled, but it didn't last long. This wasn't a happy memory and he hesitated even bringing it up.

"Well, when Jorgenson was trying to get control of me...before... People said he wasn't smart enough to do that on his own, that he probably had someone else doing the planning for him."

"You think it was Logan?" Tony asked, skeptically. "That's a reach."

"If he wants something and Jorgenson could get back into politics, wouldn't he be the one to use as Logan's way back in?"

"It is possible," Ziva said, "but would Jorgenson be aware of Logan's history?"

"Who knows?" Tim said. "We already know he's willing to do some pretty underhanded stuff himself. But regardless, Jorgenson has been near Levi's cabin in the time frame that we're looking at. Is there any legitimate reason he could be down there? Family? Vacation property?"

"Not that I've found," Abby said.

"He could just like the area, though," Tony said. "You know that."

"I do, but it's quite a coincidence, don't you think, Boss?" Tim asked, smiling a little as he intentionally brought Gibbs into it.

"Too much of a coincidence," Gibbs agreed, although he seemed almost reluctant. "What do you want to do?"

"Abby, could you see if he's made any other trips down there? People tend to follow routine, right? If he's used the same gas station for the last four times..."

"Maybe he's been a valued customer?" Abby asked, smiling.

"It's worth a shot, right?"

"If you say it is, then it is, Tim. How far back do you want to go?"

"Couple of years?" Tim suggested.

"Okay, but that might take longer."

"That's fine."

"You want to go down there?" Tony asked.

"Not yet. And when we do, I'll want it to be someone other than me. Jorgenson would know me on sight, and I don't think he'd fail to come to the correct conclusion, no matter how strange it might seem," Tim said.

"Well, Lauren Sutton said that Logan wasn't the one she'd seen, but she was willing to try and build some kind of sketch. Maybe we could get her down here," Tony suggested. "Might help to get a look at who else we might need to watch for."

"Good idea," Tim said. "You and Ziva should get her here, since she's already met you both."

They both nodded and headed out. Tim was about to see if Gibbs had any thoughts, when his phone rang. He saw it was Daniel's number and he quickly answered.

"Agent McGee."

" _Tim, I may have something for you."_

"What?"

" _Give me a few hours, and I'll call you back, but if this pans out, I might have a location."_

"What?" Tim said again, now with more than a little surprise.

" _That's a definite maybe, Tim. I just wanted to let you know that I've definitely got a lead. I just have to see_ where _it leads."_

"Can you give me a hint?"

" _Sure. Turns out that Logan may have had a girlfriend way back when."_

"Oh. That's...not even something I'd considered."

" _Me, neither. For obvious reasons. I'll get back to you."_

"Okay. Thanks for letting me know."

" _You're welcome. Bye."_

Tim hung up and then turned and saw both Abby and Gibbs looking at him expectantly.

"Well?" Abby asked. "What was it?"

"A possible lead. Daniel thinks that he might be able to track down an old girlfriend of Logan's."

"Wow. When will you know?"

"When he tells me," Tim said with a smile.

Abby rolled her eyes, but then, she looked at Gibbs.

"Hey, Gibbs. You're not doing anything, right?"

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"You can help me dig into the ancient past! You'll fit right in!"

Tim laughed and then tried to stifle it when Gibbs glanced at him.

"I'll leave you to it, then," Tim said and made good his escape.

When he was out of the lab, he stopped smiling, though. He'd heard something in Daniel's voice that he recognized...from himself. It wasn't a pleasant sound. It was an edge that said this was really affecting him. Tim knew also that Daniel wouldn't want to be out of it, but he could tell that he'd still not really got over the trauma of being a hunted man.

Tim knew the feeling well, and he just hoped he could avoid that same sensation for as long as possible.

But for now, there was always work to do.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Daniel was sitting outside of Director Morgan's office, waiting for him to have a few minutes to spare. He hadn't been sure who to go to for what he was going to say, but in the end, since Tim was involved and it didn't fit with anything else that he himself was aware of, Daniel had decided that going to the director was the best option. His own supervisor wouldn't have anything to do with this, and Director Morgan knew Tim at least a little bit.

"Agent Worthing?"

"Yes?" He looked up at the assistant.

"The director said that he has about five minutes to spare."

"I'll take it."

"All right. You can go right in, then."

Daniel nodded and got to his feet. He walked into the office with a feeling akin to being summoned to the principal's office.

"Agent Worthing, I thought you were still on leave," Roy said. "Have a seat."

"Thank you, sir. Technically, I am, but...I'm not actually."

"What's this about, then?"

Daniel leaned forward. "Let me preface this by saying that I know what I'm about to tell you and to ask is a little iffy, but I think that it could still fit within the CIA's mandate."

Roy's brow furrowed and Daniel hurried on before he lost his nerve.

"I've been helping Agent McGee search for Levi Carew...specifically, I've been trying to track down places that Marc Logan might be."

The furrow deepened and Roy leaned back in his chair.

"Searching for Levi Carew definitely _is_ outside our mandate, but I grant that Logan would still fall within it. What are you doing?"

"Asking people questions mostly."

"And I take it you have a question for me as well."

"Yes."

"Well, you lose nothing by asking. Have you already promised results?"

"No, sir."

"Good. Then, go ahead."

"I found out that it's possible Logan had a girlfriend when he was still working at the CIA."

"Why is that significant?"

"She was an agent herself, but she quit before he...went rogue," Daniel said, not wanting to give words to what Logan had done, not even now. He knew that Roy had noticed.

"Many people have dated others at their workplace. There's no law against that if both parties are consenting adults."

"But that means that she might be aware of places that Logan would go in this area. It might be that he would have taken her places that might not be listed in his file."

"I hear a lot of _might_ s in there."

"Yes, sir. There's no guarantee of any kind of success in this, but if I could ask her about it, then, we'd know and stop guessing...whether the answer is yes or no."

"All right. What are you asking for, then?"

"Permission to find out where she is."

"The CIA doesn't keep track of people who leave its employ, unless they've committed a crime on their way out."

"Understood, sir, but a current address or a phone number or a forwarding address might still be on file. I considered just doing it and asking for forgiveness later, but I don't like operating that way."

"Haven't you been doing that up to this point?" Roy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Daniel smiled. "No. Up to this point, I've been doing a friend a favor by asking a few questions. There aren't any rules about sharing gossip."

To Daniel's relief, Roy also smiled.

"Very true, Agent Worthing." He turned to his computer. "What is the former agent's name?"

"Sir?" Daniel asked, unsure whether or not he was understanding what was happening.

"For obvious reasons, I'm keeping any of the CIA's involvement in finding Levi Carew secret, no matter how peripheral we might pretend that is. I am perfectly capable of getting into an agent's file. Even a former agent."

"Yes, sir. Her name is Janell Riggins."

Roy nodded and entered the name into the computer. He gave no indication that he recognized the name for any reason. Daniel couldn't see the screen, but after a few silent seconds, Roy printed off a page and then handed it to him.

"Remember that we have no jurisdiction in searching for Carew. The fact that Logan is likely where Carew is does not change that fact. Tread carefully. I don't want us involved in something negative if we can avoid it."

"Yes, sir."

Daniel took the page and started to leave.

"Agent Worthing, one question on my side."

He turned back.

"Yes?"

"Are you sure you're doing this for the right reasons? I remember what you were like when you escaped Logan. You're still not completely over it and it's been quite a long time."

"No, I'm not, but I am doing it for the right reasons. The world will be a better place without Logan in it. If I find him, I'll do what you tell me to, but I'd be lying if I didn't hope that it was an order to stop at any cost."

"Meaning that you want him dead?"

"Yes," Daniel said, bluntly. "He's a monster, and I'd be much happier knowing he was dead."

"You have a very personal connection to Logan. This could be considered a conflict of interest, Agent Worthing."

Daniel smiled grimly. "Only if you think he should be taken alive."

Roy sat back and stared at him for a long moment.

"Agent Worthing, as far as I'm concerned, Marc Logan signed his own death warrant when he killed his team. If he is truly involved in the abduction of Levi Carew, then, that just adds insult to injury. You have my permission to take Logan out. I doubt he would try to surrender, but, as far as I'm concerned, there is no reason to take him alive, even if he did attempt to surrender. I will leave that to your discretion should you find him."

"Thank you, Director."

"Just don't let this take over. You have another week of leave time, and I will expect you to be prepared to return to your real job in Morocco when that time comes. Whether you've found him or not."

"Understood," Daniel said.

He left the office, paper in hand, and was prepared to do what it took to find Janell Riggins and find out if she knew anything. Luckily, it looked like her last address was not too far to drive.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Bri had an unexpected cancellation which gave her a rare free moment. Her job kept her busy, but it was an easy kind of busy. Very different from the busy she had experienced in the CIA. This kind of busy wasn't likely to kill her or anyone else. She had purposefully sought out a place that did not deal with serious cases. That didn't mean that an emergency couldn't come up on occasion, but mostly, she dealt with the daily aches and pains that most people experienced throughout their lives. The occasional broken bone, but nothing more serious than that. It was easy to deal with these things.

Even so, she didn't mind having some time to herself when it came during the work day. She sat in her office for a few minutes, not really thinking about anything in particular, just trying to relax, something she still had to work on generally.

Then, there was a soft knock.

"Come in."

The door opened, revealing one of the receptionists.

"Sorry to interrupt you, Dr. Carew, but someone just dropped this message off for you."

Bri sat up and took the paper, feeling a little bit of unease. She didn't like unexpected messages coming to her at work. It felt too much like her old life. Still, she smiled and nodded.

"Thanks, Alice."

"You're welcome."

Bri waited until the door closed and looked at the note. Then, she jumped to her feet and ran out to the front desk.

"Who did you say left this?"

"Just a man. He didn't leave his name. He said you'd know what it was for. Is there a problem?"

"Which way did he go out?" Bri demanded.

"That way," Alice said, pointing to the front door. "What's wrong?"

Bri didn't answer. Instead, she ran out the front door and looked around the parking lot, old habits kicking into high gear. Then, she saw him. She knew it had to be him and she ran over as he got into his car.

"Wait! Stop!"

She reached the car. The window was up, but she got a good look at the driver.

"Who are you?"

He just smiled knowingly and pulled out.

Bri resisted the urge to kick something, suppressed the regret that she didn't still carry a gun everywhere so that she could at least shoot out the guy's tires or his rear window, and looked down at the note again.

 _Your father has been abducted._

The annoying thing was that the single sentence was the entire message. No details, just that one single supposed fact. It was typed, not handwritten. No signature. Nothing. Just five infuriating words. It seemed like she could never have anything normal with her father. Her mother was fine, but her father...

Finally, she sighed and walked back into the building.

"Dr. Carew, what's wrong?" Alice asked again, deeply concerned.

"Nothing. Or at least, I don't think there's anything wrong. How long do I have until my next appointment?"

"Ten minutes."

"Okay. I need to make a phone call. Don't interrupt me unless it's really important."

"Of course."

"Thanks."

Bri went back into her office and locked the door. She looked at the message again and then pulled out her phone and called her mother.

And there was no answer on her phone.

Feeling a rising sense of disquiet, Bri sat very still. She was still very ambivalent about her father, but could her mother be missing, too? If she was right about the origin of the message, it might be that it was from someone who didn't care about a civilian.

Before panicking (which was always the last resort in _any_ situation), Bri took a calming breath and decided to call her parents' neighbor, Lauren. She dialed that number.

" _Suttons. This is Lucy."_

"Hello, is your mother home?"

" _Yeah. Just a minute. MOM! Phone's for you!"_

She was almost yelling right in the phone. Bri rolled her eyes but said nothing. After a few seconds, she heard a low voice.

" _Who is it, Lucy?"_

" _I don't know. I didn't ask."_

" _You could have... Never mind. Just give me the phone. Hello?"_

"Hello, Ms. Sutton, this is Bri Carew. You know my parents."

" _Yes! Oh, I'm so sorry about what's happened. It makes me sick to think about it."_

Trying to keep calm, Bri swallowed.

"I tried calling my mom's phone, but she didn't answer."

" _Oh, yes. She told me she was staying with some friends. I can give you the number she called me from."_

"That would be great."

" _Of course. I can't think why Tamara didn't call you already."_

"Lots of things on her mind, probably," Bri said, choosing not to get into it any more than that.

" _Yes. I'm sure that's it."_

She got the number and then ended the conversation as quickly as she could. As soon as she hung up, she dialed the number Lauren had given her and then waited for an answer.

" _Hello?"_ The female voice was accented, sounded like some Arabic origin, but she couldn't be sure which dialect.

"Hello. May I speak to Tamara Carew, please?"

" _Who may I say is calling?"_

The voice sounded distinctly wary. This was not someone used to concealing her intentions.

"It's her daughter," Bri said, trying not to antagonize the person who was currently between her and her mother.

" _Oh! Yes, of course."_

A brief pause and low voices that she couldn't hear. Then, Tamara was finally on the phone.

" _Brianna, how did you get this number?"_

"I called Lauren when you didn't answer your phone. Why didn't you call me yourself?"

" _How did you know to call at all?"_

"Someone decided to leave me a note at work, saying that Dad's been kidnapped. What's going on?"

" _Who left you the message?"_

"I don't know, but he had a CIA look to him. How long has he been missing?"

" _Over two weeks."_

"And you never thought to call me, not even _once_?"

" _I considered it."_

"And you didn't call because...what? You didn't think I'd care?"

" _I'll admit that the thought crossed my mind, but it wasn't just that."_

"What was it, then? Mom, tell me why you didn't say anything."

" _Because I was terrified that someone would find out I was still alive."_

"What? I thought it was Dad who was taken."

" _He was. They took him from the cabin...and blew up the cabin. The only reason I got out was because I heard your father calling for me."_

Bri heard the tears in her mother's voice.

"They tried to kill _you_?"

" _Yes."_

Bri didn't have to ask why. She understood. With Tamara out of the way, no one would have been looking for them for weeks, giving the perpetrators plenty of time to get away.

"And you're okay?"

" _Yes."_

"I'm coming down there, Mom."

" _You don't have to. People are looking for him."_

"That's not why I'm coming," Bri said.

" _I know I can't stop you, but really, Bri, you don't need to come yet."_

"Yes, I do. I needed to come two weeks ago."

" _Call again when you get here. I don't know if I'll still be in the same place or not."_

"All right."

" _I love you,"_ Tamara said.

"Love you, too, Mom."

Then, Bri hung up. There was still a large part of her that wanted to just say _good riddance_ to her father and whatever might be happening to him, but at the same time, she couldn't. If he was still alive, she knew what was likely happening to him. She'd gone through the same and worse. Even though her feelings were ambivalent at best, she still couldn't leave him to be tortured.

And she wanted to _see_ that her mother was all right.

Decision made, she started the process for taking leave, making sure that her patients wouldn't have to put off their appointments while she was gone.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Daniel pulled up in front of a small, neatly-kept house in Delaware, just about two hours from D.C.

He noted the car in the driveway, the neat and tidy flower beds, and the cheery green door. This was someone who had left the CIA far behind.

 _And probably doesn't regret it one bit._

He knocked on the door and waited patiently.

The door opened, revealing a woman a few years old than Daniel himself. Her expression was cautious but no more than that.

"Hello?" she said. "Can I help you?"

"Janell Riggins?"

Then, he saw it. An almost-unnoticeable shift in her stance, her expression, her eyes. She was now alert the way one would be on a mission. He wasn't sure what had triggered the change, but she was now very aware that things weren't simple.

"Yes."

He pulled out his I.D., glad that he'd thought to bring it with him.

"Daniel Worthing."

She looked at his I.D.

"CIA."

"Yes, ma'am. May I come in?"


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

"– _Mustang!"_

The word suddenly broke through his walk and he stumbled back into reality. He opened his eyes and saw his captor for the first time. The one who had been torturing him up to now was not his captor. This was his captor and, for the first time, he expended the mental effort needed to identify him. For the first time in days, he was truly connected to reality.

He laughed. Breathlessly and painfully, but he still laughed. It wasn't even fake. It was incredulous.

"You..." he whispered. "I shouldn't be surprised...but I am."

"I know you, Carew. You never rely on a person's word. You always have evidence to back you up. What is it? Where have you hidden it?"

Again, he laughed. He should have realized that the Mustang region could come up again, but he could never have anticipated what had been done. Never. Killing Tamara was a huge step beyond what he would have thought to be a possibility.

He forced himself to sit up.

"You want to know?" he asked.

"Yes."

He forced himself to smile through the throbbing pain.

"Bite me. Better yet... bite yourself. That makes more sense than the original phrase anyway."

He fell back to the table, shaking.

"Can't keep it up. It'll kill him."

The voice was unconcerned.

"Fine. Take him back."

They forced him to drink some water and then, the strong hands lifted him off the table and dragged him back to his cell. They dropped him on the floor.

Funny how something that had happened years ago in a mostly-unknown region of the world could have become the impetus for murder, that a _job_ could be an impetus for murder. He knew that it happened, but he himself had never understood it. He had kept his job only as long as he needed to. Then, he was done. Sure, it had taken thirty years, but he had still done only what he had felt was necessary. Need, not desire.

He lay there, thinking about what he now knew, thinking that it didn't really matter, but at the same time, it did because not even pain and grief could quite quash his innate interest in understanding things.

Then, finally, he took a breath and slowly exhaled. He closed his eyes.

...and went back to the farm.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim was sitting at his desk, stewing. He knew that was what he was doing. There was nothing productive going on right at this moment as far as he was concerned. Just stewing about what they still didn't know, what they hadn't done, what they might or might not find.

The question Gibbs had asked him was starting to grate on him.

 _What if Levi is already dead?_

Tim hated the thought, but he had to acknowledge the possibility, whether he wanted to or not.

To distract himself from that, he forced himself to think about how bizarre it was that he did care about whether or not Levi had been killed. Given how he'd first come into close contact with him, Tim knew that it made no sense. ...unless you were willing to give people a chance to change. It had begun in Yemen, but with the benefit of hindsight and distance from the traumatic moments of his life, Tim could see that Levi had asked nothing of anyone that he wouldn't ask himself. He could be ruthless, but never wantonly cruel to those he used. He used them to the extent he needed to, no farther. Maybe it was a damning with faint praise, but Tim could appreciate the effort that Levi had put into everything he had done. He had been upfront and honest about what he had wanted and what he would give back when Tim had been unable to speak. ...and he had kept Tim from going too far.

"Tim?"

Tim sat up and saw Jimmy looking at him with some concern.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. Just...fretting," Tim said, smiling a little. "What's up?"

"Well, Ducky wanted to give you our analysis of Logan."

"Oh! Great." Tim stood up and followed Jimmy to the elevator.

They got on and it started to descend.

Tim was surprised when Jimmy suddenly reached out and stopped it.

No, not surprised. Tim was _shocked_. So few people dared stop the elevator that Jimmy wasn't even on the list of people who would do it or even _think_ about doing it. Even he himself would only dare do it in a major emergency.

"What's going on, Jimmy?"

"Are you really okay, Tim?" Jimmy asked. "Because you don't look like you're okay, and I know I've been on the outside edge of all this stuff that's gone on, but I've watched you, and you're not acting like you're really okay. Something about this is really getting to you, and I feel like you shouldn't hide it."

Tim raised an eyebrow. It was true that Jimmy really hadn't been in on much of what he'd gone through, but he was very observant. Too observant in this case.

"And you can't even say that talking about it won't help," Jimmy said, almost reading Tim's mind. "You know that talking does help."

"Did Ducky put you up to this?"

"No. He doesn't know I'm doing it. Come on, Tim. You know I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to." He smiled. "People don't usually listen to me, anyway."

Tim smiled. "I know you wouldn't."

"Then, what is it?"

It's a lot of things, Jimmy," Tim said, finally. "It's not just one terrible thing. It's a lot of little things piling up. It's fine."

"No, it's not! Usually, you tell someone, but because you know how people feel, you're not telling anyone and that's not a good thing."

"How do _you_ feel about all this, then?" Tim asked. "You're on the outside, how do you feel about what I want to do?"

"You want to save someone. I'm fine with it," Jimmy said without any pause. "I know that Carew's done a lot to you and for you. The way I see it is that, if you don't want to hold that against him, I don't think the rest of us have any right to, either."

Tim smiled ruefully. "I wish the others felt that way, but they don't."

"So what is it, then?" Jimmy asked.

"If Levi is still alive, then, I can imagine what they're doing to him, and it makes me sick to my stomach. Daniel is helping me, but he's got the same kinds of feelings I do. He knows how it feels to be at the mercy of someone else and I hate that this is putting him in that situation, even though I know he won't accept being left out of it. I'm afraid of feeling the same way Daniel does again, and I don't want that. And I'm afraid that we'll end up finding him dead and I'll have to tell Tamara...that I couldn't save him."

Jimmy was silent for a few seconds. Then, he cocked his head to the side.

"Those don't sound like little things to me," he said. "Those are big things, Tim. Why hide them?"

"I'm not hiding them from everyone, but I'm not really talking about them, either."

"You should."

Tim shook his head.

"No. Not about this. There are things I just can't talk about with the others. They won't be able to hear me over what they're thinking...over what they're saying. I've told Zahara and I've talked about it some with Dr. Hicks."

"Well, you know that Dr. Mallard doesn't mind, and I don't either."

"Thanks, Jimmy."

"You're welcome, and Breena really does want you guys to come over."

"We will. When this is over. I promise." The idea of doing something so simple as having dinner with the Palmers was extremely appealing in fact.

Jimmy nodded and turned the elevator back on. They rode down to Autopsy, but Tim's mind was only half on what Ducky might have to say. He was looking at Jimmy through entirely new eyes. With all the things that had happened in his life over the last...decade, Tim had to admit that, far too often, Jimmy had barely even existed for him. He had appeared and disappeared without any fanfare as the chaos that so often ruled Tim's life had taken over. The last couple of years had seen things change, but even that was seeing Jimmy outside of work, not really as someone who could be a part of all this. He had badly misjudged Jimmy and that was something that should change.

 _If I can see Levi in a different way, seeing Jimmy differently shouldn't be hard at all,_ Tim thought to him and smiled a little.

He said nothing aloud, but it was still on his mind as they walked into Autopsy.

"Ah, good," Ducky said. "I was hoping that there wouldn't me a long delay. While I cannot guarantee that I am correct in my findings..."

"I know that," Tim said, quickly. "I've read the CIA file, too."

"Very well. There is one area in which I completely disagree with the CIA."

"Oh, really?" Tim asked. He perched on the edge of an autopsy table. "What is it?"

"They describe him as cold and calculating. Calculating, yes. I see nothing to lessen this man's intelligence, but I don't believe that Logan's actions are cold. I see them as being the result of something burning at a very high temperature inside him. Figuratively speaking, of course."

"Of course."

"This is not something he simply decided to do. This is something he _wanted_ to do. Logan enjoys what he's doing too much for it be something cold. While his approach to his employment might be cold, his actual actions are not."

Tim nodded.

"Do you agree that Logan would be willing to play the mercenary, then?"

"Yes. I believe that, whatever is guiding his actions, acting as a mercenary would feed that need, that emotional goad. And, if this man is involved, I don't think you'll be able to predict his actions. One of the things that made me feel that this is not something he is coldly choosing is the description of some of the things he's done in the past. Some did seem cold, but others did not. That tells me that he wears the mask of whatever he wants to portray. You will not know what course he chooses until he chooses it. Likely he himself won't know until in that moment. You must be ready for anything, never forgetting that he's a very dangerous enemy."

Tim nodded again and took a breath.

"Do you think Levi is still alive?" he asked.

"If it were Logan in charge? No. I think he would have tired of the game already and simply killed him. A game is only good with the ultimate triumph at the end. He would play with his prey, but he would want to win in the end. But since you think that someone else is calling the shots, be it Jorgenson or someone else, I think you're safe in assuming that he is."

"I hope I'm right."

"As do I," Ducky said, "for your sake if nothing else."

Tim smiled. "Thanks, Ducky."

"You're welcome. Now, how are _you_ doing?"

"I'm worried, but I'm okay."

Then, his phone rang. He looked at the number and his eyes widened.

"I have to take this, Ducky. Sorry."

"Very well. Go on, lad."

"Thanks again."

Tim answered his phone as he hurried out of Autopsy.

"Yes?"

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Janell stared at him for a long moment. Then, she stood aside silently. Daniel walked inside and followed Janell into a small living room.

"Have a seat," she said. "You're lucky you caught me at home. I only work from home a couple of days a week. And I don't work for the CIA. I've been out for years."

"I know that."

"I work for the FAA now. There's nothing classified about my work," Janell said.

"I know that, too," Daniel said. "I'm not here about your work now."

"Then, why are you here?"

"Marc Logan."

There was both surprise and caution. No doubt she knew something about what he had done, whether she knew details or not.

"Why?"

"I've heard that you two were in a relationship. Is that true?"

"Why?" she asked again. "I wasn't even in the CIA when he...went rogue."

"Just answer the question, Ms. Riggins. You know how this works."

There was a pause where she was staring at him, trying to decide whether or not to push it. Daniel didn't give an inch. Then, she sighed.

"Puri," she said.

"What?"

"My last name. It's Puri. I got married two years ago. That's what gave you away."

"And still living in the same house?"

"Yes," she said, with a slight smile, revealing nothing.

"You dated Logan," Daniel said.

"Yes. We dated for about a year."

"And? You know what I need to know."

"I know. We were exclusive. We were serious. But we both were agents and while there was no rule against it, the whole idea was just not something we wanted to advertise. We never showed anything at work, but it must have got around. These things do."

"Why did you break up?"

"As far as I'm concerned, we just grew apart. There was no malice on my side and Marc said there was none on his side."

"Who initiated it?"

"I did. That's when I quit, actually."

"Why? Were you afraid of him?"

Janell shook her head. "No. I wasn't. I just thought it would be awkward for us to see each other. I'd been thinking about moving on anyway and this was just the impetus I needed to get out."

"How did he take it?"

"He took it fine. In fact, he even suggested that there was no need for me to quit, that we'd be able to work together still. I think we both could see the writing on the wall. There was no fighting. There was no passion. That was the problem. So we broke up. I got a new job and I haven't seen him since. I never had any indication that he was unhinged. He never seemed that way to me. Not even a hint. I can't even look back and say I see something now. Nothing. I can't help you that way."

Daniel smiled a little. "What about a location?"

"I don't know where he is," Janell said. "If I knew, I'd tell you. I promise."

"That's not what I mean. Were there places you two went? If you tried to keep it a secret from the CIA, where did you go to be together?"

"We went on dates. Lots of places. We were dating for a year."

"Was there any place he took you often, somewhere that was significant for him? Maybe a family cabin or something like that?"

"I don't know... It's been years. I'm married. I don't think about old boyfriends."

"Just think about it now. If there wasn't anything, fine. I'll be on my way. If there was, I need to know."

Janell sat back and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. Some of her training had worn off, but there was still some of it left. Analysis.

"There was a place we went to a few times. I wouldn't say it was often, but enough that I remember it. It was somewhere in southern Virginia. I really don't remember where exactly. It was a pretty big house. He said it had belonged to his family for generations but he was the only one left and so he used it any time he wanted to. It was isolated. We went there to be together on a long weekend or a vacation."

"Southern Virginia?"

"Yes. That's the best I can do to tell you where it was."

"Large house?"

"Pretty big. Two floors. I think there was a basement. Mostly for storage. I don't think there was any actual living space down there. But keep in mind that I'm pulling this from quite a while back and it's stuff that had no significance for me."

"I know. Anything else you can tell me?"

"No, but you won't tell Marc that I told you this, right? I mean, I was never scared of him, but with what I heard afterward..."

"I don't have any plans to let him in on what you told me," Daniel said, thinking grimly of how he hoped this would all end.

"Thank you. I know you can't tell me anything, but was this helpful?"

"I think so."

"Good luck," Janell said and stood up.

Daniel followed the not-so-subtle indication that the meeting was over. Janell led him to the door and he left. Ready to report on information, even if it didn't give them an exact location.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

"Are you sure?" Tim asked.

" _Give me a little credit, Agent McGee. I do understand how the process works."_

Tim blushed, even though he was alone.

"Sorry."

" _No apologies necessary. Actually, I have to say that Logan was very sloppy. Either he's become rusty over the years or else he never reckoned on the NSA getting involved."_

"I can't speak to the former, but considering that _I'm_ surprised, the latter would make sense to me."

" _Remember that I want to keep it that way."_

"I remember."

" _So we were able to track him down from the auto mechanic's shop and follow his movements very easily. He went to the site of the cabin you told me about and then to this house. However, he hasn't left that location in days, at least, not that has shown up. If he's as good as he's reported to be, he might be able to elude us. That just depends on what his intentions are and how aware he is of the possibility of being tracked, but I can tell you that he has definitely been in that area."_

"Did you see any sign of Levi while you were looking?"

" _I didn't tell them to look for him."_

"They had to get him to the house sometime in the last couple of weeks."

" _Well, there's a garage on this house, Agent McGee. If they had any intelligence at all, they wouldn't move him where he might be seen. There aren't close neighbors here, but there are other houses. And you never know whether or not there'll be nosy neighbors."_

"Right. Okay. Could you send me the coordinates?"

" _Already done, with the source encrypted."_

"Understood. Thank you for your help."

" _You're welcome. Remember to tell me how it goes."_

"I will."

Tim hung up, more surprised than he would admit that this had turned out any results at all, let alone so quickly. He hurried back up to his computer and checked his email.

Sure enough, there was a message from an encrypted source. He had GPS coordinates and an address.

In southern Virginia, near the gas station where Jorgenson had been seen.

Could it really be shaping up to something significant? After days of very little, could they have hit pay dirt?

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Bri couldn't decide how she felt as she drove south. First of all, she was coming down for more than one reason. She didn't necessarily want to worry about her father, but she _was_ worried about her mother. And she hated the feeling of worry. Worrying made her irritated. She had always made a point of ignoring worry in her work. Everything was about getting a result. It wasn't about real people. That had been a hard habit to break, but she was working on it. Being away from anyone who might know her had helped, and she resisted getting dragged back into anything related to the life she'd led before. Including her father.

So she wanted to see her mother, but she didn't know about her father, but she was still a bit worried about him, but she still wasn't sure about him, but she knew that things had changed, but she didn't like leaving in the middle of a work week, but...

All in all, the miles passed with Bri uncertain about what she was doing. When she got closer to DC, she decided to call her mother again and get exact directions to wherever she was staying. She had insisted she was safe.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Closer and closer. He knew he was almost there. He hoped to see Tamara soon, but for some reason, the final goal kept eluding him.

 _Maybe there's a reason for that._

The voice...or was it a voice? He tried to figure out whether he was really hearing something or not, but that took too much effort. He tried to open his eyes.

And there was Quinn, his son, dead so many years now, was staring at him, but from a distance, as if across a deep chasm.

"Are you there?" he whispered.

There was no response to his query. He supposed that must mean that his son wasn't really there. Delusions were to be expected with the way he was being treated.

But wherever he looked, there was Quinn, staring at him.

"It was my fault," he said. "I knew that...that... you could have died, but I never... thought it would be... because of me."

The words made him breathless and he had to just breathe for a while. And Quinn was there, not moving, not speaking, just staring. His son had often been that way. He was quiet, reserved, much as he had remembered his own father.

Not typical CIA material, but he had been good at his job, and he'd had the build to let his strength get him further. Who knew where that larger build had come from. Certainly not from his side of the family.

Still, he stood there, quietly evaluating his father, waiting.

Waiting for what? He was dead. Waiting for what? What could he possibly be waiting for?

"Are you really there?" he asked again.

 _Are you?_

Quinn. Never long on words, but big on meanings.

All those lost years.

"I thought your mother...would be here, not you."

 _Why?_

It seemed to be a direct response, but was this real? He really couldn't tell. Not at all. He was just trying to keep breathing, although there was the question of why he was doing that. He was getting closer. He knew it. If he could just get back to the farm again, he could make it.

But he couldn't.

Not with Quinn there. Dead or not, he was there, and he couldn't leave while he was.

And Quinn didn't leave. He just stood there. Staring silently.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim ran into Abby's lab, address in hand. As the doors opened, he started talking.

"Abby, I have something for you to..." he trailed off as Tony, Ziva, Abby, Gibbs and a woman he didn't know all turned to look at him.

"Ms. Sutton, this is Agent McGee. He's also on our team," Tony said.

Tim blushed bright red. He could feel his cheeks burning, but he smiled and nodded.

"Hello, Ms. Sutton. You're making a sketch of the man you saw in your neighborhood?"

"Yes, that's right. I can't say that I feel I'm helping all that much, though. I just didn't get a good enough look at him."

Tim glanced at Abby and she shook her head. It wasn't enough.

"That's all right," he said. "Every little bit helps."

"I hope so. Tamara sounded so upset when I talked to her. I know she loves Levi so much and after all the struggles they've had..." she trailed off. "Well, is there anything else I can do?"

"I think that's all for now," Tony said. "If we have any other questions, we'll call."

"And if I think of anything else, I still have your card."

"I will take you to the entrance," Ziva said. "This way."

"Thank you."

Tim barely glanced back as the neighbor left. His attention was all on Tony, Abby and Gibbs.

"You look like you're about to explode, Probie," Tony said. "What's going on?"

"Abby, I need you to check on an address for me. See if you can find out who owns it, how recently it's been occupied, everything."

"What is it?"

"My source came through. He got me a location, but I need to make sure that this is it before we go storming in there."

"Well, then, lay it on me, Tim," Abby said. "I can't read your mind."

"Good thing. I think you'd get lost in all the circles," Tim said, grinning.

Abby grinned back and took the address he'd written down.

"So how did he get this?" Tony asked.

"I didn't ask, but it's trustworthy. I promise."

"How sure are you?" Gibbs asked, breaking his silence.

"As sure as I can be. The very fact that he's done anything means that there's something to this."

"But so fast? You just did this this morning. ...right?" Tony said.

"I know, but what he told me makes sense."

"Makes sense, but is it right?"

"That's why we're checking it out before we go rushing in there, Tony," Tim said, feeling a little frustrated. "I didn't just go..."

His phone rang.

"I have to take this," he said and answered. "McGee."

" _Hey, Tim. I have something for you. It might not be much, but it's better than nothing, I figure."_

"Great! Let me have it," Tim said, feeling more surprised than he'd ever admit at having _two_ bursts of info all at once.

" _Logan had a girlfriend. They dated for about a year. He used to take her to a family-owned house down in southern Virginia. She doesn't remember where it was exactly. It's been a while and they broke up before Logan went rogue. But she told me that there were two floors, and she thought there was a basement. A fairly large house, and Logan claimed that he was the only one left with ownership in the property so he could use it whenever he wanted to."_

"Tim, here's the house at that address," Abby said, pointing to the computer.

Tim looked at it.

"Daniel, you said two stories and probably a basement, right?" Tim said, slowly, staring at the photo.

" _That's right."_

"We might know exactly where it is."

" _You can't leave me out of this, Tim."_

"I know. Can you come over to NCIS? We have some checking to do before we head down there."

" _Yes. My participation is official as far as finding Logan."_

"Okay. I'll let Henry know you're coming."

" _Be there in less than an hour."_

"All right. Bye."

Tim hung up.

"Logan used to take a girlfriend to a family house down in southern Virginia," Tim said, trying not to sound triumphant. "Two stories, probably a basement."

He gave Tony a dagger stare, daring him to say that it was just a coincidence.

Tony didn't.

The lab doors opened and Ziva came back.

"What is going on?"

"We may have found the place that Logan is hiding out and that means that it could be where Levi is," Tim said. "Two sources pointing to the same area. Also, the same area that Jorgenson has been seen in. Coincidence, Tony?"

It was a challenge, and they all knew it.

"No," but it was Gibbs who said that. "It's no coincidence. Abby, keep working. I need to give a report."

Tim tried to protest.

"People will likely die during this takedown, Tim," Gibbs said bluntly. "If NCIS is going to be involved in it, Jenny needs to know."

Tim nodded. He knew that was the case. He just didn't like spreading information around like that. It seemed like it was asking for trouble. ...but if they could move fast enough...

Gibbs strode out of the lab, leaving Ziva still looking confused.

"How did all this happen in five minutes?" she asked.

"My sources came through. Daniel's on his way here."

"Why? He's CIA," Tony said.

"The CIA wants Logan. They're authorized for that."

"He won't just be doing that, though."

"When has it stopped the CIA in the past?" Tim asked.

"Never," Abby said. "I hope this works out. I'm still checking on the house."

"Good. I hope it comes through soon," Tim said.

"For your sake, so do I," Abby said.

Tim smiled and then stared at the computer, willing it to get the results he wanted.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I shouldn't authorize this, Jethro," Jenny said.

"If you weren't going to, you should have put your foot down a week ago. Tim won't stop now. If you say no, he'll just go on his own...and probably get killed."

"We don't have jurisdiction. If the slightest thing goes wrong, it will be a nightmare."

"Then, it had better not go wrong," Gibbs said. "Maybe you should get in touch with the CIA and offer to help apprehend Marc Logan."

"I don't like it when you get political, Jethro," Jenny said. "You're too good at it."

Gibbs smiled. "Aren't you lucky that I don't bother most of the time."

"No, I'm not. It's almost worse when you ignore politics," Jenny said, but she did smile a little. Then, her smile vanished. "Be careful, Jethro. This is off the books, even if we do get nominal cooperation from the CIA. I don't know if you really know what you're getting into."

"I don't, but Tim does."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Gibbs said. He hated that _he_ didn't know, but he _was_ sure that Tim did, and Tim wouldn't knowingly lead them into an unwinnable situation. Not even for Carew.

"Then, good luck, and keep your head down. ...and keep Tim's head down, too."

Gibbs nodded once and left the office. It was like they'd be trudging through knee-deep snow for days and now it had instantly melted and they were barreling downhill at a faster speed than was safe.

He just hoped that it would work out all right.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Daniel arrived before Abby had got her information and Tim brought him up to speed on what they were doing. Tony and Ziva were making sure the cars were ready to go as soon as they got the go ahead. Gibbs was with Abby who kept looking back at the CIA agent who looked nothing like a CIA agent.

"Just so you know, Tim," Daniel said, "I'm officially authorized to take Logan out if we find him. This is not an arresting situation. If I see him, I'm shooting him."

"Are you sure that's what you want, Daniel?" Tim asked.

Daniel smiled, and for the first time, Tim really saw him as a CIA agent, not his tour guide and friend from Morocco. It was a smile that was at once knowing and secretive...and merciless.

"Tim, you might not believe it, but I've had the same CIA training as anyone gets. I'm good at my job. I haven't had to use that training in a few years, but I've still had it. I've killed people before and never have I killed someone more deserving than Marc Logan. I'll be doing mankind a favor by getting him out of the gene pool."

Tim nodded, but he regretted seeing that change. Perhaps it had always been there and Daniel had hidden it, but Tim felt that he'd triggered the change by inadvertently asking Daniel to relive his experience. Tim glanced at Gibbs and saw a knowing look on his face. Tim tried not to blush at being so transparent and looked back at the computer for the millionth time.

Finally, his attention paid off.

The computer dinged a result.

Tim almost beat Abby to the monitor, even though she was closer.

"Back off, McGee. My space," Abby said, but she wasn't serious. Not completely.

"Sorry. Ladies first," Tim said, gesturing.

"Thank you."

Abby brought up the information.

"The house is part of the estate of Edward Logan... father of Marc Logan," she said.

"Is there someone who's paying the property taxes?"

"It's coming from a family trust. Automatic payments, every year."

Tim leaned forward.

"So he could have kept it all this time without worrying about being interrupted."

There was a brief silence.

"What do you want to do, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

Tim straightened.

"We need to find out. We're going down there." Tim looked at the screen once more. "But I need to pick up Tamara, first."

"What?" Tony asked. "What if he's not there, Tim? What if he's already dead? Is that really what you want?"

Tim looked at Tony, knowing that this had to be addressed, knowing that it wasn't normal. ...but nothing was in this situation. Not in the details.

"No, it isn't what _I_ want, but it's what _she_ wants. If it were up to me, I'd have her wait until we knew for sure, but it's not. She made me promise that I'd take her. I'm not going to lie to her."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow without speaking. He didn't need to.

"She'll have to stay in the car until we're sure it's safe," Tim said, "but she needs to be there."

"Your decision," Gibbs said.

Tim nodded and made another one.

"You guys can start down right now. I'll need to be out of sight anyway until we're sure we're ready to move in. I'll go and get Tamara and start down. If you see something..."

"We'll let you know," Tony said. Then, he looked at Daniel. "You coming with us or on your own?"

Daniel smiled. Again, there was the different expression that made him a CIA agent.

"Normally, I'd say that I'd go with you, but I'd better keep the illusion of separation. I'll leave now with you, but I'll take my car."

"Then, let's go. We'll see you down there, Tim," Tony said.

"Don't speed too much," Tim said. "Give me a chance to get there."

"We would not leave you out," Ziva said. "At least, not this time."

"Thanks."

Tim hurried out of the lab and ran to the elevator, ran to his desk to grab his things and then ran to the elevator again and outside.

"McGee! Wait!"

He turned around and saw Tony coming out.

"What is it, Tony? We don't want to waste any time."

Tony jogged over to him.

"I know. Just... be careful, okay?"

Tim felt a little confused. So he smiled.

"You'll be down there before I am."

"That's not what I mean," Tony said, looking serious.

Then, Tim saw it. That look in Tony's eye when the past was not where it should be (i.e., in the past). It might as well have been ten years ago right at this moment. Tim wrestled with whether he was irritated that Tony was choosing right now to start worrying about Tim's mental health again or touched that Tony was taking the time to be concerned. He took a breath.

"Tony..." He tried to figure out how to say this without sounding rude. "Tony...there are no shrapnel wounds on my back this time."

Now, it was Tony's turn to look confused.

"The scars are there, but they don't hurt me anymore. Hit me on the back and it doesn't do anything but get my attention."

The confusion turned to wary understanding. Tim continued.

"I'm not going to pretend that I won't be really upset if things don't go how I want them to, but it's not going to destroy me. I'm not the way I was five years ago, ten years ago...even three years ago. I'm healed. I have scars, but I'm healed. You don't have to worry about that anymore. You don't have to blame yourself for it anymore. Let it go."

There was a long silence where they both just looked at each other. For all the urgency, there was a need to let the moment linger.

And it did.

Then, Tony smiled, a little sheepishly, even.

"Don't take too long, McGee," he said, finally. "Otherwise, we might take all the glory for ourselves."

Tim smiled in return, knowing that Tony didn't want to continue the conversation and willing to let it lie for the time being.

"If you don't get to the car, I might beat you down there," he said.

Tony nodded and went back into the building. Tim took a breath and let it out in a whoosh. Maybe that could be the last of it. Probably not, but maybe. He got in his car and drove home as fast as he dared.

When he got there, he went up as quickly as he could and opened the door.

...to find Brianna Carew sitting in his living room beside her mother.

It was the first time Tim had seen her since Yemen, and he wasn't sure how he felt that she was in his home.

It was clear that she wasn't exactly excited to be there, either.

"Agent McGee...I didn't expect to see you here right now. What is it?" Tamara asked.

Then, she stood up, her expression changing to one of painful hope.

"Have you found him?"

"Maybe. We're headed down there right now, but I don't know if he's there or if he's alive or dead. That's what we're going to find out. Are you coming?"

There was no hesitation. Not even a second.

"Yes. I'm coming."

Bri stood up, too.

"Mom, this isn't going to be something simple. You should wait."

Tamara turned back.

"No, Bri. I _have_ to be there. If your father is still alive, then, I _need_ to be there when they find him. But you need to stay here."

"Just one thing, ma'am," Tim said.

"What's that?"

"You can only come if you promise to stay in the car until we give you the all-clear sign. Bri is right. This is going to be a dangerous situation and the last thing we'll need is to have to protect a civilian in addition to everything else."

"I understand," Tamara said, without any rancor and again without hesitation. "I'll do what you say."

"Mom, I should come, too, then."

"No. Right now, Bri, you need to let this happen and not be involved. I'll let you know as soon as I can."

Tim was surprised when Bri didn't argue, but he didn't say anything about that. He just walked over to Zahara who was standing silently, letting the discussion happen. He hugged her tightly.

"I might be home late," he whispered to her.

Zahara's arms were holding him just as tightly.

"As long as you come home, I will not care. I hope you find Levi alive."

"So do I."

Then, he let her go and Zahara remembered that she was still playing hostess.

"Brianna, would you like to wait here?"

Tim wasn't surprised when she shook her head.

"I'll get a hotel room, but Mom, you call me. No matter what."

She hadn't yet said a word to Tim. She'd barely looked at him. Her desire to leave his presence might as well have been shouted out.

"The others have already started down," Tim said. "We should go."

"Then, let's go," Tamara said.

They left.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Daniel drove down alone, following the NCIS team. He was trying to decide how he felt about this. Part of it was eager anticipation to have something be truly over. Part of it was fear of seeing the man who had hunted him again. Part of it was wondering if he was doing the wrong thing.

Then, he realized that he should probably _tell_ someone that he was doing this.

Quickly, he called the CIA and asked to be put through to the director. He was on hold for ten minutes before he got an answer.

" _Agent Worthing, I was told this was important. It had better be."_

"I'm currently on my way to southern Virginia with the NCIS team," Daniel said succinctly.

" _Logan?"_

"We think so."

" _How sure?"_

"Sure enough that the team is going down, that Tim is getting Carew's wife. Not 100 percent, but pretty close."

" _You're not on your own?"_

"I'm in my own car, but I'm going down with the NCIS team."

" _Good. You'll be glad to know that we are officially accepting aid from NCIS to track down our rogue agent."_

"What?"

" _Just in case it's needed."_

"Do _they_ know that?"

" _If they didn't before, I'm sure they do now."_

"Okay."

" _Report in."_

"Will do."

Daniel hung up and refocused on the road. Being sanctioned felt better, anyway.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Do you really think this will turn out well?" Ziva asked. "It has been long enough that Carew could easily be dead by now."

"Isn't that well?" Tony muttered.

"No," Ziva said. "Not if it will make Tim upset. I care more about his happiness than my own satisfaction. I do not want to see him have to grieve again. He has had far too many things causing him pain. He does not need another one."

"He's still alive," Gibbs said.

"Why do you say that?" Tony asked. "I know it's not because that's what you want."

"Because Jorgenson has been going down there still. Why do that if Carew is dead?"

Tony nodded, although he seemed a little disappointed. He would likely never forgive Carew for what Tim had gone through. Just as he would likely never fully forgive himself for contributing to Tim's pain in any way. Ziva knew it, but she was beginning to see what Tim had meant. Carew didn't need to deserve saving. Tim was doing this as much for himself as for Carew. Tony's refusal to let go had meant that he held onto his own pain as well. Tim had let his pain go and that meant that he could let go of the pain Carew had caused.

She wasn't sure she could do the same, but she was seeing more that Tim's approach was better than Tony's.

"When we get down there, would you like me to search the area?" she asked.

Gibbs nodded once. This was where things would actually get dangerous. While they were miles away from Logan, his previous actions hadn't really mattered. But now that they would be getting close to him, his previous actions were more frightening than they had been.

"What about that Agent Worthing?" Tony asked.

"He's CIA."

"Yeah? So? We can't just be running our own separate ops, Boss," Tony said.

"Tim will be running it. Daniel will listen to him."

"Right."

And they continued on in a tense silence.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"You must think there's something to this, Agent McGee," Tamara said.

"I do. I wouldn't have come to get you if I didn't. I think that we're going to find him today. I just don't know...what condition he'll be in."

"I'm not naive, Agent McGee. I couldn't be naive and in a relationship with Levi. It would never work. My eyes are wide open."

"I understand," Tim said.

There was silence for a few minutes, and then Tamara asked the question Tim didn't want her to ask. It was probably inevitable, but he would rather have avoided it.

"Bri seems as uncomfortable around you as you are around her," Tamara said.

"Yes."

"Why?"

Tim glanced over at her.

"You don't want to know," he said.

"I'm sure I don't, but tell me anyway."

"Why?" Tim asked. "She's your daughter. She's left the CIA. You know her already."

"Because I want to know what it is about her that has you obviously wishing she was anywhere else and has her obviously wishing the same thing."

"Well, she probably feels a little guilty," Tim said, seizing on the part he felt wouldn't ruin things.

"Why?"

"Because I was involved in saving her life...and that's not what she did for me."

"She tried to kill you?" Tamara asked.

"No. She didn't do that."

"Then, what, Agent McGee? I can tell you're trying to talk around it, but thankfully, you're much worse at avoiding details than Levi."

Tim smiled a little at that.

"Thank goodness."

"Yes. But what happened?"

Tim sighed.

"Fine. Ten years ago, your daughter was part of the team assigned to torture me, to find out just how long I could resist before giving in to questions asked of me. Your daughter and your son were both part of the team. I was taken more than once, given a drug that made me hallucinate and given electric shocks. I still have dreams about it sometimes."

There was a long silence. Tim glanced at Tamara. She didn't have much of a poker face. She was horrified.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. You asked. I didn't want you to know that."

"But you saved her. Why?"

"Because she was suffering. I don't have to like her to want to make sure she doesn't suffer. She told me once that it wasn't personal. And I can believe that, to her, it was just her job. However, it was very personal to me. I've been tortured more than once. And if I could, I would try to make sure that no one ever had to go through what I've been through. That includes your daughter. It also includes Levi."

"But you've forgiven Levi. I can see it."

"That's because he's made it possible," Tim said, glad that no one else was around to hear this conversation.

"And Bri hasn't?"

"From my experience with your daughter, she doesn't want to admit that what she did was wrong. It was her job. It needed to be done. Therefore, no forgiveness is necessary. No regret is necessary. If that's the way she's going to live with it, then, I think I'm justified in wanting to keep my distance."

"I agree. I'm aware of her flaws, Agent McGee. It's not that I've never known how cold she can be. I know it won't help, but most of it is a cover so that she can seem just like her father. The problem is that Levi hid behind absolutely nothing. Bri hides behind coldness and rudeness. Even cruelty, although I didn't know it went so far. She thinks it's the same, but it's not. Maybe in time, she'll see more to life."

"Maybe. If she wants to apologize, I'm in a state to hear it," Tim said, neutrally.

"Maybe some day," Tamara said.

"Maybe," Tim said. He had his doubts that Bri could change _that_ much.

Tamara just smiled and looked out the windshield.

"You don't have to agree with me, Agent McGee. I live my life on useless hope, but sometimes, it doesn't turn out to be so hopeless after all."


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Tim pulled over when he saw Gibbs standing by the road. He looked at Tamara.

"I stay where I am until I'm told otherwise," she said.

Tim nodded and then got out.

And his phone rang. He almost ignored it, but then decided to answer.

"McGee."

" _Agent McGee, I thought you might want to know that Jorgenson appears to be on his way down to that address."_

"Uh...well, I beat him here."

" _So soon? You're not wasting any time."_

"I can't afford to. It's been too long already."

" _Well, if I'm right, he should be down there in about an hour. If you're going to do something and catch him, you'd better move quick."_

"Understood."

Tim hung up and strode over to Gibbs.

"What have you found?" he asked.

"Ziva's still scouting out the property," Tony said in a low voice. "No sign of cameras. Two stories and definite signs of a basement."

There was a slight rustling and Ziva came out of the trees. Tim looked at her.

"Three people in the house. I did not get a good look at any of them, but I think none are Carew. No sign of movement upstairs. There is a basement but I could not get close enough to see inside the windows, and all the basement windows are barred. If they were keeping him here, he would be down there. No one would see him."

"Any sign of movement down there?" Tim asked.

"Not in the basement. Just the three upstairs."

"We can't take too long to do this," Tim said.

"Why not?" Tony asked. "I get that we don't want to delay if we don't have to, but..."

"Jorgenson is on his way down here. Right now. If my source is right, he'll be here in an hour."

Tim looked at them all.

"We need to do this, and we need to do it now."

He looked at Daniel.

"If Logan's here, I'm good. I'll do what I'm told as long as you give me the chance to take him out."

Tim nodded and then looked at Gibbs. "Boss, I could use your advice on this one."

To his relief, Gibbs just nodded. Tim knew he had less experience in planning a takedown. He could probably do it, but he wanted to give them the best chance of success, and he wanted to make sure that as few people were hurt as possible...on his side, at least. Gibbs was better at taking the lead in this kind of situation.

"We need to move in fast and not let any of them get into the basement, but we can't assume that there's only the three of them," Gibbs said.

"It is not a walkout," Ziva added. "The only way in must be inside the house."

Tim looked at the front of the house. It had a traditional look to it, kind of like a farmhouse.

"The stairs are probably right inside the front door," he said. "This house is old enough. I don't see any reason to expect two separate sets of stairs."

"Tony, head for the stairs," Gibbs said. "Ziva, you're with me. We take the front. Once we neutralize the ones on the main floor, Ziva, you head down with Tony."

Ziva nodded.

"I'll take the back," Daniel said. "Just give me time to get in place."

Gibbs nodded.

"McGee, you're with Worthing."

Tim nodded.

"First goal is to get hold of anyone who might be in the house. If Carew is in there, he can't be helped until we know that we've got rid of the captors."

They all nodded.

"Two minutes, McGee," Gibbs said.

Tim nodded and he and Daniel made their way through the trees to the back of the house.

"Logan's not getting arrested, Tim," Daniel said. "Even if he surrenders, I'm under orders to take him out."

"I understand," Tim said, wishing he didn't.

Then, they didn't speak again until they could see their way to the back of the house.

"No sign of anyone in the back," Daniel said. "Let's move in."

They crept forward, making as little noise as possible. They kept to the trees until it was impossible.

"Boss, we're right at the edge of the yard," Tim whispered into his mike.

" _Thirty seconds."_

"Thirty seconds," Tim relayed to Daniel.

Daniel nodded grimly and checked his gun one last time. Tim did the same.

Then, they waited tensely.

" _Go."_

"Go," Tim said.

They both ran for the back door. Up the stairs and they had to kick the back door open, hearing the commotion from the front of the house.

"Federal agents! Hands in the air!"

Gunfire in return.

There were two hallways to the front of the house. Tim took one and Daniel took the other.

As Tim ran, he caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. He ducked, but not quite enough and the edge of a fist clipped the side of his head, throwing off his trajectory. He careened into the wall, a little dazed. He kept on his feet, but he was off kilter now.

And he got his first look at Marc Edward Logan.

For one endless moment, he looked Logan in the eye and he saw the same cruelty that he had seen in the eyes of Jubran, the same cruelty that had been in the eyes of his handler. That terrifying glee at the prospect of killing and causing pain. Ducky had been right. Logan wasn't a cold, calculating killer. He ran very hot.

And Tim tried to fight through his daze to fire, but he couldn't seem to get his mind in gear enough, even with that eternal moment.

...but then, it didn't even matter. The gun was up, but it didn't fire.

Someone else's did.

"Remember me, Logan?"

Logan looked away from Tim and there was a smirk on his face.

Another shot and he fell to the floor, the burning desire fading from his eyes.

Then, Daniel came into view.

"You okay, Tim? Did he get you?"

"Just winged me," Tim said. "I'll be fine."

"Clear back here!" Daniel shouted.

"Clear up here!" came the response.

Tim rubbed at his head and straightened. He looked down at the dead man on the floor. Daniel followed his gaze. There was a moment of silence. Even from the front, there was little sound.

Finally, Daniel took a deep breath and let it out loudly.

"Carew?" he asked.

"I don't know," Tim said.

They hurried into the front room and found Gibbs with one man in handcuffs. Two other men were dead on the floor.

"Tony? Ziva?" Tim asked, lowering his gun slightly.

"Downstairs," Gibbs said.

"It's clear!" Tony shouted. "McGee, you'd better get down here."

Tim looked at Daniel.

"I'll stay up here," Daniel said. "I'd better keep to what I'm authorized to do. Go."

Tim nodded and ran down the stairs into a full basement. There was a small room with a number of doors. Tony was beside one and Ziva was just coming over to join him.

"Levi?" Tim asked,

"This is the last room and the only one that's locked," Tony said, gesturing. "I was just about to get the door open. No sign of wiring or anything. It's just locked."

Tim walked over to the door. Tony looked very unsettled. Even Ziva seemed uncomfortable.

"What is it?"

Tony gestured wordlessly to a room with an open door and a foul stench wafting out of it.

"If he is here, we found where he must have been tortured," Ziva said quietly. "It is...not pleasant."

Tim nodded and didn't look at it any more closely. He didn't need to see more evidence of torture.

"He may be dead," Tony said. "Or he may not be in here at all."

"Won't know unless you open the door, Tony," Tim said.

Ziva quickly picked the lock. It was a normal doorknob. Tony and Tim raised their weapons. She hesitated and then opened the door.

There was little inside the room. It looked like a room used for cold storage. Where the other areas of the basement had been sheetrocked and had tile flooring, this one was still all concrete with only one small barred window that was either frosted or just covered with dirt. The only other thing in the room was Levi Carew, lying on the floor, not moving. He was on his back. He did not look like the mysterious, often aggravating director of the CIA. He looked like a weak, old man. There were no obvious signs of whatever had been done to him, but they all knew. Somehow, they all knew.

He was broken.

Tim hurried over and knelt down. He took hold of Levi's wrist. There was a pulse. It was weak and irregular, but there was a pulse. He was alive. He touched Levi's shoulder and shook him gently.

"Levi. Can you hear me?"

For a long moment, there was no response. Then, Levi's eyes opened slightly. At first, he just stared straight up at the ceiling.

"Levi, where did they hurt you? What places shouldn't I touch?"

Then, Levi's gaze shifted just enough to see Tim. His mouth quirked into an almost smile and he let out a puff of air that might have been a laugh. His eyes closed again.

"Of course..." he said breathlessly, almost in a whisper. "Who else...would randomly show up here when no one could have...known? Of course. Did you miss...our little chats... that much, Agent McGee?"

Tim grimaced briefly. He knew that no matter how softly Levi had been speaking that Tony and Ziva would have heard that...and would eventually think to ask him about it.

"No. That's not it," Tim said.

"Then...how did you... know I was missing? No one...knew."

"Tamara told me."

Then, Levi's eyes opened all the way. Those disturbing black eyes were looking at him in a way he never had. Or almost never. He had seen them this way once when Levi had been delusional. They were full of emotion. In this case, a deep, painful grief.

"Tamara... No. She's dead," he said.

"No, Levi," Tim said. "No. She's alive. She got out of the house and then she walked all the way back to D.C. and came to me for help finding you."

"No..." Levi said again. "Didn't... see her. House was... destroyed. Must be a...mistake."

"She got out. Levi, I wouldn't lie to you about this. I promise. She's actually right outside. She insisted on coming with us."

"No."

Tim looked up at Tony. Ziva was no longer there.

"Call the..."

"Ziva already did," Tony said. He looked more than a little disturbed.

"Then, let's get him out of here. No reason to leave him in this place."

"Out?" Levi repeated.

"Yes. We're getting you outside and to Tamara. Then, to the hospital."

"I almost...made it to... Tamara," Levi said. "Closest...I ever got...to the end of the...path."

Tim bent over and began lifting Levi up. He seemed almost boneless. So weak that he couldn't even lift his head.

"I was... going to make it, but... Quinn...wouldn't leave. Couldn't... ignore him..."

Tim knew that Quinn was dead, that he had been for years. For Levi to be mentioning him now...

"Come on, Tony. Help me," Tim ordered.

Tony nodded and holstered his gun. He took Levi's other side and they lifted him up. Levi's head flopped forward and then lolled toward Tim's shoulder.

"Wanted to... go back to the farm. One more time. Would have... made it. Seen her again."

"You'll see her. Just wait."

It was awkward going up the narrow stairs with Levi balanced between them, but they managed it. Then, it was out of the house completely and to the porch. And then...

"Levi."

Tim looked up and saw Tamara standing there, waiting. Gibbs must have told her. Or Ziva.

Levi lifted his head, the expression on his face one of complete disbelief, even though she was right there.

Tamara walked up the steps.

"I'm here, Levi."

"You were...in the house," Levi said.

"No. I heard you call for me. I got out."

"You were... in the... the house," he said again.

"No, Levi. I wasn't. I'm alive."

Then, to Tim's surprise, Levi suddenly stood on his own and lurched forward, pulling free of Tony's and Tim's grips. Then, he took a step, collapsed onto Tamara and began to sob. Weak, breathless cries that had almost no sound to them, but his shaking was visible as he struggled to breathe through his tears.

"You...were...dead..." he managed to say.

"No, I wasn't. I never was, Levi. I'm alive and I'm right here."

Tamara sank down to the floor of the porch, Levi in her arms and she began rocking him back and forth as he sobbed over and over again that she was dead, that he had seen her die, that he'd almost made it. Tamara just rocked him and soothed him, rubbing her hand over his head and holding him close. Eventually, his words ran out and he was just wheezing as she comforted him.

"I've got you, Levi," she said. "I won't let you go. I won't ever let you go. Not now. Not ever."

After a little bit of silence, Levi looked at Tamara once more and he whispered in a language Tim couldn't understand.

"Afafuni chevlei mavet, v'nachalei v'li-al y'va'atuni  
Chevlei sh'ol s'va-vuni, kid'muni mok'shei mavet  
Batzar li ecra Adonai, v'el Elohai ashavei'a, yishma mei'heichalo coli, v'shavati l'fanav tavo v'oz'nav."

A hand on Tim's shoulder startled him and he turned back to see Ziva, looking down at Levi and Tamara.

"The sorrows of death surrounded me, and the floods of ungodly men made me afraid," she said softly.

Tamara looked up Ziva for just a moment and then went back to Levi.

"The sorrows of Hell surrounded me; the snares of death confronted me. In my distress I called on the Lord and cried to my God. He heard my voice out of his temple, and my cry came before him, even to his ears."

She lifted her eyes to Tim.

"It is a psalm. He is speaking Hebrew. I did not know that he knew it."

Tim hesitated and then said, "He's Jewish. Most of his family died in the Holocaust."

Ziva looked down at them again.

No one else said a word. Tim watched, feeling both happiness and a sense of disquiet he couldn't identify as yet. Tony was standing there, looking like he didn't know what to do. Gibbs and Daniel were both inside the house with the bodies and the one man they had taken into custody.

After a few minutes, the wail of a siren could be heard as the ambulance approached the house. When it arrived, the EMTs got out and came over.

"I don't know what's been done to him," Tim said, "but he's been missing for nearly three weeks. I'm sure he wasn't fed and I know they must have done something to him, but..."

They nodded. Carefully, they pried Levi away from Tamara, but they let her stay right beside him, holding his hand, stroking his forehead. They got him on a stretcher, checked all his vitals and then, with Tamara right beside them, they loaded him on an ambulance and drove away.

As soon as the ambulance was out of sight, Tim let out a long, slow exhale. Then, he looked at Tony.

"Was he worth saving, Tony?" Tim asked, unsure of what the answer would be.

Tony didn't look like he wanted to answer, but then, he nodded once.

"Yeah, McGee. Right now...yeah. Maybe not later, but right now... he was worth saving."


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

After a few seconds, Tim took a breath and went back into the house. Daniel was back staring at Logan's body. Tim walked over to stand by him.

"How do you feel now?" Tim asked.

Daniel didn't look up. He just kept staring down at the body on the floor. Blood was starting to pool beneath Logan's neck.

"Relieved," Daniel said, finally. "I never really felt completely safe, you know. Not really. Always worried that he might suddenly show up again and come after me. To have him be dead and _see_ that he's dead... It's a relief. And I'm human enough to admit that there's just a bit of satisfaction. Did you ever read _The Most Dangerous Game_?"

"In school, I think."

"I can still remember the last line. 'He had never slept in a better bed.'" Daniel smiled a little. "It meant that Rainsford had won and Zaroff was dead. Did it mean that he had taken Zaroff's place? There's that feeling of triumph and satisfaction that not all the will in the world can get rid of. What matters is what happens next."

"And?" Tim asked.

"And I'm going to report this and then... then, I'm going to make sure that I don't turn into Logan myself."

Tim patted Daniel's shoulder and then walked back out to the front room.

"What now, Boss?" Tim asked. He was lead, but he wasn't above asking for suggestions.

"How long before Jorgenson gets here?" Tony asked.

Tim looked at his watch. It hadn't even been half an hour since he'd talked to Director Gellman.

"Maybe thirty minutes, if my source was right."

"Then, we should be ready for him," Ziva said, with a grim smile.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tamara knew that Levi was awake simply because he was still holding so tightly to her hand. The tendons in his arms were visible, but he was unresponsive as the EMT began giving him oxygen and doing a more thorough check.

"Mr. Carew, are you feeling any pain?"

No response.

"He's still holding my hand," Tamara said. "Why wouldn't he respond when he must be awake?"

"Given the state he's in, he may not be able to think beyond what he's doing. It looks like oxygen deprivation."

"Really? How... why..."

"I don't know, ma'am. I'm just telling you what I see, and I see a man who has not been breathing well."

Tamara squeezed Levi's hand and held back her own tears. She had come so close to losing him and now, she feared that she might not get him back.

"Will he be okay?"

"I can't tell you that, but he's alive now. That means something."

"Two minutes out," the driver said.

"Good."

"We're almost there, Levi," Tamara said softly, barely audible over the siren. "Stay with me."

He still said nothing, but he still held onto her hand, all the way to the hospital.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The car pulled in front of the house, and it wasn't the CIA cleaning crew.

One man got out of the car and walked toward the front door, turned the knob and stepped inside.

"Hello, Mr. Jorgenson. How nice to see you," Gibbs said. "Won't you come in."

There was a moment when it looked like he would run. Then, he quickly covered that and looked at Gibbs, letting his surprise show.

"I don't believe I've met you. I'm here to talk to the owner of this house, and that's not you."

"Marc Logan?" Tony asked, stepping into view.

Jorgenson glanced at him.

"Yes. That's right. I have business to discuss with him. If he's not here or if he's busy, I'll come back later."

"He is busy," Ziva said, revealing herself. "But he will never not be busy now."

"That business wouldn't have anything to do with kidnapping and torturing Levi Carew...would it? Mr. Jorgenson?" Tim asked.

Jorgenson's head jerked around at the sound of Tim's voice and he stared right at Tim. There was a brief flash of intense hatred, so much so that Tim actually wanted to step back. He didn't, but he wanted to.

"I don't have the slightest idea of what you're talking about, Agent McGee, although one has to wonder why _you're_ here."

"I'm wondering what brings _you_ here as well," Tim said.

Somehow, it was now about the two of them. The others were extraneous.

"I told you. Business. I'm a private citizen. You are in NCIS. You have no business here."

"You're right, but unless your business with Logan has to do with abduction, there's no reason for you to have come down here repeatedly over the last couple of months." Here Tim took a risk. He knew Abby hadn't found anything in particular yet. "And you wouldn't have been seen in this area previous to that...maybe back when you were trying to frame me to get me arrested? Ring any bells?"

"I can't say that it does, Agent McGee. If that's all, I'll be going."

Jorgenson turned to leave.

"You don't even want to hear how much you were paying?" Tony asked.

Jorgenson turned back.

"Paying? For what?"

Now, Daniel pushed surviving member of Logan's team into view.

"Talk," he said.

"For us to abduct Levi Carew, kill his wife, and bring him here to be tortured until you were ready to start questioning him," the man said.

"And how much _was_ that?" Ziva asked.

The man was very straightforward. He'd already admitted that he'd been hired. They'd already promised him leniency.

"Five hundred thousand dollars to be divided among us. Logan would get half and the rest of us would get what's left. I got $25,000 as my initial fee with the promise of another $25,000 when it was over."

"Any stipulations?"

"No blood and no broken bones unless we were specifically told to," the man said and then looked straight at Jorgenson. "By you."

"Expensive business," Tim said. "I didn't know you had that kind of money. You must have really liked Logan's work. Was it killing his entire CIA team that impressed you the most?"

"Or was it when he would willingly torture suspects whether he thought they had information or not that made you want to hire him?" Daniel added.

"You have no jurisdiction here, Agent McGee. This has nothing to do with the Navy," Jorgenson said.

"But the CIA does have license to track down and take care of a rogue agent," Daniel said. "And if we asked for the help of NCIS, then, they do have the right to be here. And as a representative of the CIA, I can say that NCIS has officially been asked to give aid."

"So what are you going to do now, then?" Jorgenson asked.

Tim smiled and pulled out his handcuffs.

"Do you want to put them on yourself?" he asked. "You do want to be in charge, don't you."

Finally, Gibbs stepped in and took over.

"Claude Jorgenson, you're under arrest for kidnapping, conspiracy to kidnap Levi Carew, conspiracy to torture Levi Carew, aiding and abetting a fugitive and any other charges we figure out as we go along."

He put the cuffs on Jorgenson who tensed just enough that Gibbs thought he might actually fight to run away, but in the end, he stood still.

"Call the local LEOs," Gibbs said. "We need someplace to stash these guys until we're ready to move things along."

Tony nodded and pulled out his phone.

Tim watched as Gibbs led Jorgenson out of the house, leaving he and Ziva with the other man and Daniel.

"Remember, you promised that I'd get leniency if I cooperated," the man said.

"And you will as long as you don't give us any trouble."

"I haven't yet, have I. I was the first one to give up rather than shoot back."

"You are the only one," Ziva said.

"Yes, and I'd like to stay alive, so I'm sticking with it."

"Good."

"Tim?" Daniel said. "I need to talk to you."

"Okay. Ziva?" Tim asked.

"I am fine."

Tim walked with Daniel down the hall, just far enough away that they could have some privacy.

"What is it?"

"A cleaning crew is coming to get rid of Logan. The others will be left behind, but we're taking care of our mess and they'll be here in under a minute."

"Oh."

Tim wasn't sure what to say about that.

"Okay."

Daniel smiled.

"You seem to have a really hard time thinking of me as CIA."

"You were really good at _not_ being CIA," Tim said.

"I was always CIA, Tim. The whole time you've known me. I didn't lie to you, but that's what good cover is like. You don't have to lie. You just are what you say. And I'm CIA. I'll be glad to get back to Morocco, but I also am glad I was here for this."

"I'm not. If I had known you had a personal connection, I wouldn't have asked you do it," Tim said.

Daniel raised an eyebrow, but he didn't get a chance to respond. The CIA crew came in from the back. They saw Daniel and he pointed toward the other hall. Not a word was spoken. They just nodded and pulled out of sight. Tim turned and walked back to the main room.

"Who?" Ziva asked.

"Cleaning crew," Tim said.

For a moment, she seemed confused, but he saw instantly when she understood. He walked over to the hall and there was no sign of a body ever being there. Daniel walked into view.

"I'll be writing up an official report of the CIA's role in this just in case it's needed. If the local LEOs need to get our statement, they can contact the CIA liaison. He'll have all the information they need. Now, I need to get out of the way, unless you have anything else you need me for?"

Tim shook his head.

"No, I don't think so."

"Okay. I hope I can see you and Zahara before I head back, Tim," he said.

"Me, too."

Then, Daniel walked out of the house. Sirens could be heard in the distance and both Tim and Ziva walked out to the porch with the still-unnamed member of Logan's team. Tony had Jorgenson in the car.

Tim watched as Daniel drove away, feeling that same disquiet rise up again. Again, he tried to ignore it while there was still work to be done. The police pulled up to the house and Gibbs intercepted them. Tim was glad. He was happy to let Gibbs be seen as the one in charge and he could just fade into the background. No one the wiser.

Gibbs gestured to Ziva and she took their witness/captive down the steps. In moments, he was being loaded into a cop car. Jorgenson was also placed in another car.

All the while, Tim just stood and watched the activity, not trying to be a part of it at all. Unconsciously, his hand reached up to his neck and he began to finger the Hand of Fatima that Zahara's brother had given him during his visit, less than a month ago. He had said it would protect him from evil.

 _Maybe it can protect me from fear, too,_ Tim thought.

Finally, Gibbs walked over to him.

"Take your car and go to the hospital, McGee," he said. "When you're done there, you might as well just head home."

"You guys aren't going to do that, are you," Tim said. It wasn't even a question. While everything was up in the air, they'd be staying on hand.

Gibbs climbed the steps and grabbed Tim by the shoulder.

"Go home, Tim. Be with Zahara. You need that."

"And no one else does?"

"Not like you do."

It was like when Tony and Ziva had made sure that Tim had the spare time to go and talk to Dr. Hicks. Gratitude warred with annoyance. Perhaps it showed on his face.

"You're not weak, Tim. No one who knows you would think that. But you need it and we all know it. ...and so do you."

"Okay," Tim said. "Okay, Boss." Then, he chanced a smile. "Does that mean I'm not in charge anymore?"

"Case closed?"

"I think so."

"Then, yes."

"Good."

Gibbs gave him a light swat on the back of the head and sent Tim on his way. Tim walked down the steps and toward where they had hidden his car. Ziva just touched him on the shoulder and said nothing.

"See you tomorrow, Probie," Tony said. "We'll make sure that Jorgenson is really uncomfortable. Just for you."

"Thanks, Tony," Tim said.

Then, he got in his car and left the scene behind.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Hoshi-eini."

The whispered words startled Tamara, even though she couldn't understand them.

"Levi?" she whispered. "Levi, can you hear me?"

She had never seen him so weak and so helpless. Even when admitting the weakness existed, Levi had always seemed in control of himself, always strong, always sure, showing less than was quite natural. She had never seen him cry before, not ever. She'd never seen him weak. She'd never seen him afraid. But this was all together different. ...and not just because he seemed to have lapsed into speaking Hebrew when he'd never done that in all the years that they'd been married. In fact, she'd always assumed he was simply an ethnic Jew, not a religious one. He'd certainly never gone to a synagogue while she'd known him.

"Choneini Adonai, ki umlal ani," Levi whispered, his eyes still closed.

"Levi, please."

He was currently receiving oxygen and getting nourishment through an IV. If he really woke up, they'd have him eat, but he seemed to be awake and yet not responsive. Tamara had never seen someone look so weak without obvious injury. Whatever had been done to him had nearly killed him, but there didn't seem to be a mark on him anywhere.

"Ms. Carew?"

Tamara turned away from Levi and looked at the doctor.

"Yes?"

"Any change?"

"No. Why is he like this?"

"Very likely, it has to do with the psychological trauma as much as the physical trauma. He's starting to stabilize physically. He'll come out of it."

Tamara nodded.

"There's an Agent McGee here who said he wanted to see how things were going. Are you all right with him coming back?"

"Yes. Absolutely. He saved Levi's life."

The doctor smiled and then withdrew.

"Levi, Agent McGee is coming. He needs to know that this all worked."

Would that wake him up? Tamara had no idea, but she was willing to try anything.

"Tamara?"

"Agent McGee," she said. "Please, come in."

Tim stepped into the room, looking uncertain.

"I'm on my way back up to D.C., but I wanted to stop by and see if anything was better."

"The doctor says that Levi is stabilizing, but he's stopped responding. He's said a few things in Hebrew. I think. I didn't even know that he knew Hebrew."

Tim was looking at Levi without looking away.

"I heard him speak Hebrew once. He didn't know I heard him, but I did."

"That's more than I could ever say. Until now. Thank you," Tamara added. "Thank you so much for finding him alive."

"I wasn't sure we would. I was afraid it might be too late."

"It wasn't, and now...I don't know how to..."

Tim looked at her, smiled and shook his head.

"No. No more debts, no favors, none of that. This was the human thing to do, even if it's what I wanted. What I did was simply the human thing: trying to save another human from suffering. You don't owe me. Levi doesn't owe me. I just hope that he recovers."

Just for a moment, Tamara stepped away from the bed. She walked to Tim and hugged him tightly. She could feel that he was trembling slightly, but she didn't ask why. Tim seemed a little uncomfortable with being hugged, so she let him go. Then, she went back to the bed and took Levi's hand again.

"As soon as I can, I'm going to have him transferred closer to home. I'll let you know where. You're always welcome to visit."

"Thank you," Tim said. "I'd better get on my way. It'll be late enough as it is by the time I get there. But if you need anything, the rest of my team will be here tonight." He handed her a card. "You can call them if you need anything at all."

Tamara nodded and watched as Tim withdrew.

When she was alone with Levi, she pulled out the photograph she'd rescued from the cabin and looked at it. Then, she looked at Levi again.

"Levi, come back to me. You didn't lose me. I'm right here. Don't make _me_ lose you again."

"Hoshi-eini," Levi whispered once more.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim's drive home was basically uneventful. Long, but uneventful. He bypassed going to NCIS, although he'd considered it. Instead, he went straight home. He parked, took the elevator up, just like every day, unlocked the door and stepped inside.

As he had guessed, Zahara was awake, waiting for him. She was watching something on the TV, but as soon as he came in, she was on her feet, running to him and hugging him tightly.

"We found him, Zahara," Tim said. "He was still alive."

"Al-hamdu lillah," Zahara said. "I am so glad. And you are safe, too. I am glad for that, too."

"Me, too," Tim said.

The feeling of disquiet arose in him again.

"You know what? I really need to shower," he said, suddenly, and pulled away from Zahara's arms, barely looking at her. "You can finish watching whatever it is. I'm going to shower before bed."

Then, he walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He stripped off his clothes as quickly as he could, got into the shower and turned on the water as hot as he could stand it. He stood motionless under the stream for a few seconds. Then, he leaned against the wall and slid down to his knees. Before he knew it, he was sobbing. He was kneeling in the shower and sobbing, hands clenched into fists and pressed against his head. He didn't know why. He just knew that there was some emotion crying out to be expressed and it could only be done with tears.

After a minute or two, the curtain shifted slightly as the door opened. Then, the curtain was pulled back and he felt Zahara's gentle, yet strong, arms around him.

"Tim, ana huna," she said softly. "I am here. Lasta wadhak. You are not alone. I am here."

For a long time, Tim just cried in her arms.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

"Do you think Tim was okay?" Tony asked as they ate at a local pizza place.

"I do not know," Ziva said, shaking her head. "He would not admit to there being a problem, but Gibbs sent him home and he would not have gone on his own. You know that."

"Yeah. There was something about seeing Carew like that, though. Man, it even had _me_ feeling a bit sorry for him. I don't know how Tim felt."

"He knows Hebrew," Ziva said. "Of all the things about Carew...I would not have guessed that he would be Jewish. His name is not Jewish."

"Levi?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No. Carew. That is not a Jewish surname."

"Well, maybe he changed it."

"Perhaps."

"Does it make a difference to you? Him being Jewish?" Tony asked.

Ziva looked at him and then down at her plate.

"Yes. It does. Not as much as it has to Tim, but it does. It...makes him seem more human."

Then, she looked up at him.

"Does this make a difference to you?"

"For now. No matter how much I hate him, I didn't like seeing him so weak, and then...with his wife. Who wouldn't be..."

"Touched?" Ziva suggested. "Carew has never seemed to care about anyone or anything beyond his own plans. That he could be brought to tears by seeing his wife alive..."

"Yeah." Then, Tony forced a smile. "And do you know what the worst thing is?"

"What?"

"Tim was right."

Ziva smiled, too.

"He will not rub our noses in it."

"Not too much."

"What do you think will happen with Jorgenson?" Ziva asked.

"I don't know. I mean, he's not FBI anymore, but he _was_ and he was for a long time. I can't imagine that this will stay under wraps."

"Perhaps it should _not_ stay under wraps," Ziva said. "Perhaps this is one time when publicity will be a good thing."

"Maybe. I have my doubts."

"As long as he does not get away," Ziva said, firmly. "After all he has done to Tim and all he has now done and been willing to do, he must pay the price."

"I'd like to make that more immediate," Tony said, darkly, and swore under his breath.

"As would I, but you know that Tim would not like that."

"I know. Weird guy."

They finished their meal and then headed back to the police station where they'd placed Jorgenson and the mercenary they'd arrested. He seemed plenty eager to help out if it was going to get him leniency. It was a practical approach, but they were willing to go along with it. He wasn't the one pulling the strings. Logan was dead, and Jorgenson was the only one left who mattered.

No matter what else, Jorgenson wasn't getting off this time.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

He opened his eyes. Had it been true? Had it been real? He couldn't bring himself to believe it, but his whole being ached with the desire to believe it.

He didn't know where he was, but either he was extra delusional or he was in an actual bed. There were unidentifiable sounds.

Had it happened?

Then, it dawned on him that he was holding someone's hand.

Could it be?

He couldn't bring himself to do anything for the moment. He just lay there with his eyes on the indistinct ceiling, wondering if what he vaguely recalled happening had actually occurred.

Then, the hand he was holding shifted.

"Levi, can you hear me?"

He still only stared at the ceiling. The voice _sounded_ real, but was it?

"Tamara," he whispered, almost inaudibly.

"Yes! Levi, I'm here."

"You were dead," he said.

"No, I wasn't. I heard your voice. I got out in time."

"You were dead," he said again.

"No, Levi. Look at me. I'm alive."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm himself. He knew it didn't sound like he was agitated, but he was. He just didn't have the energy to do anything about it.

"Levi, look at me."

He turned his head slightly and caught a glimpse of gray-streaked hair. Then, he went back to staring at the ceiling.

Then, a soft hand grabbed his chin and turned his face to the side and he found himself staring at the one person who had made all his efforts since leaving the CIA worth it. The one thing truly of value in his life.

"Tamara," he whispered again.

"Yes, Levi."

He reached out with his free hand and touched her face. She was really there. While a part of him was nearly overcome with joy that she was alive, there was a large part of him that still didn't quite believe it was real.

Perhaps that was why he could say it without hesitation, without worry that he seemed weak, able to be taken advantage of. Part of him didn't believe that she was really there.

"They broke me," he said, finally. "No one ever broke me. Not once. No matter what they did. They never took anything from me that made me break. I never had anything...I couldn't lose. ...until now. They broke me. I'm broken."

His grip on her hand tightened as his throat seemed to close up.

"I'm broken," he said again. "I'm broken."

Then, Tamara freed her hand from his grip and sat on the bed beside him. She put her arms around him and held him tightly.

"I'm broken," he said again in a whisper, unable to say anything else.

Tamara leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"Then, I'll help put you back together."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

After a while, Tim had calmed enough that he could finish showering and get dressed. Zahara had let him, but he knew that it wasn't the end of it, and all things considered, it probably shouldn't be. So he quickly got ready for bed and then stepped out of the bathroom. Zahara was sitting on their bed, cross-legged, looking at him with concern.

"Are you all right, now, Tim?" she asked.

He walked over and sat down beside her. "Yeah. I am. Not great, but I'm okay."

She touched his hand. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure."

"You were crying, Tim," Zahara said. "That is not something you do without a reason."

"I know. I just..." Tim held her hand and looked at it. "From the moment that we found Levi, there was just something... and then, when I was talking to Daniel, it was worse. But I couldn't show any of that while I was working. When I got home, I suddenly had to get rid of it."

"What was it?"

Tim thought about it for a few minutes. Zahara just sat where she was and waited.

"It was like when I was coming back from Yemen a few years ago," he said, in a sudden realization. "I managed to keep everything under control until it was over. Then, I had to express everything that had frightened me. Gibbs was there to talk me through it then. When I saw Levi on the floor, I saw myself. I saw how close _I_ had come to dying in the past. And when I was talking to Daniel, I regretted the way he was feeling because I contributed to it, even if I didn't mean to."

"It isn't your fault," Zahara said. "You didn't want others to suffer. You never have, not while I have known you."

"I'm not perfect, Zahara," Tim said.

Zahara smiled. "I did not say you were. And I did not expect you to be perfect."

Tim smiled back.

"Now, I have one more question for you," she said.

"What's that?"

Zahara held out the Hand of Fatima necklace. Tim remembered taking it off before getting into the shower. She must have seen it in his things.

"Where did you get this? It looks like Ahmed's."

"It is. He gave it to me, that day when he went running with me."

"He did? Why? It belonged to our father. He gave it to Ahmed before he left. Ahmed said that our father had told him that it would protect the family while he was away. He has never been without it in my memory."

"Really? He didn't tell me that. He said that he got it from his dad, but that he wanted me to have it because it would protect me from evil and that meant it would protect you, too." Tim's smile softened and he stroked Zahara's cheek. "I didn't have a problem with that."

Zahara cupped her hand around his.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just didn't think about it. The last few weeks have been full of pretty much everything else. I've been wearing it. I just didn't think to tell you."

Zahara smiled and put the necklace around his neck and then covered the charm with her own hand.

"I will feel better with you wearing the khamsa. I know that you do not believe in these things, but I do."

"I may not necessarily believe that the charm protects me, but the sentiment behind it makes me feel better."

Then, Tim hugged Zahara tightly.

"And this makes me feel better, too. Just being close to you."

"I will always be here," Zahara said.

Tim lifted her chin and kissed her. She responded to the kiss and they lay down together.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Roy sat at his desk, wondering if the decision he'd made would come back to bite him. Unlike Levi, he didn't have seemingly unlimited favors he was owed. He appreciated how quickly Daniel had written up his account, though. He must have started writing as soon as he got back. It was thorough and professional. Roy had expected nothing less, although he would have picked someone else to do this if he could have. He didn't like sending Daniel to take down the man who had almost killed him. There was very likely a hefty dose of revenge in the act, even if it had been sanctioned.

His phone rang, as he had expected it to, even so late in the evening.

"Yes?"

" _What in the name of all that is holy are you CIA people doing?"_

"Director Norton, it's pretty late for you to be so riled up, isn't it?"

" _The CIA does not have the authority to operate on U.S. soil, and what in the world was NCIS doing working with one of your agents?"_

"You seem to be very well-informed. Would you mind telling me where you got your information?"

" _I don't ask for your sources. Don't ask for mine."_

"I was apprehending a rogue agent that had been missing for years. In fact, this was the first time in four years that he'd been seen."

" _Why NCIS?"_

"Because they had been involved something that crossed paths with him."

" _Jorgenson?"_

"What about him? I don't have him. He's a private citizen."

" _Someone didn't send NCIS that memo."_

"Oh, I'm sure they know that. They probably just don't care." Roy decided to test the waters a bit. "Honestly, Darius, do you really want to be involved in this? You don't have to be."

There was a long pause. It might even have been a little surprised.

" _I heard about Carew."_

"Did you?" Roy said, neutrally.

" _You should have told me, Roy. I haven't done anything to deserve being kept out of the loop like this. You might despise Jorgenson. Fine. So do I. But the FBI is not Jorgenson. I was blind-sided and that's not right."_

"So...in the future you want to know?"

" _If I'm going to be grilled about it later, yes."_

"So noted."

Another pause.

" _You got your agent?"_

"Taken care of."

" _Good."_

Then, there was a click and Roy hung up, smiling. That had actually been more informative than he would have thought.

Time to go home.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs hoped that Tim had done what he needed to do. Just like in Yemen, Tim had been getting overwhelmed by what had happened. Gibbs had been able to see it in his eyes as he watched Carew. He had seen it when Tim had been talking to Daniel. It was far too easy for Tim to put himself in those situations. He'd had far too much experience with them himself.

Now, it was just a matter of making sure that everything on this end could work out the way it should. Jorgenson was not getting away with this. Gibbs didn't care who tried to get him released. He was _not_ leaving this cell, except in custody to be transferred back to D.C.

Then, he let his mind wander to Carew himself. Even Tony and Ziva had been taken aback by what had obviously been done to him. One would have to be a lot more than callous not to be shocked and wonder just what had been able to break someone so famously unflappable as Levi Carew had always been.

From Gibbs' point of view, it was all about his wife. What little he'd seen of Carew in the context of his wife had shown him a deep connection that had managed to weather the storm of Carew himself. If he had thought she was dead, maybe that was enough to break him.

Regardless, Tim had needed the chance to decompress, and while Gibbs had helped him before, he had a wife who would do a better job of it this time. Gibbs knew that Zahara was more than equal to the challenge. While she appeared shy in public, that didn't remove the strength she had. He could still see her expression when she was upset about his reluctance to help Tim find Carew in the first place. There was no shyness that time. He smiled a little. Tim had chosen very well. For all the bumps in the road for the two of them, Zahara fit with Tim more than Gibbs could have thought possible.

"Agent Gibbs?"

Startled out of this thoughts, Gibbs looked at the officer who had spoken to him. "Yes?"

"Jorgenson is demanding to speak to you."

"Demanding?" Gibbs asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That's the word he used."

"Of course it is. About what?"

"He didn't say."

Gibbs sighed and decided to see what the ruckus was about. He wasn't above giving Jorgenson a verbal...or physical smackdown if he needed it. He followed the officer back to the holding cell where Jorgenson was standing, looking angry.

"What is it, Mr. Jorgenson?"

"NCIS does not have jurisdiction over me. I'm a private citizen."

"That's why the Virginia State Police are doing the honors of holding you until you can be transferred back to D.C. Is that all?"

Jorgenson swore at him. Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not interested in what you have to say, Jorgenson. You have five seconds to make me interested."

Then, Gibbs turned to leave.

"After everything Carew did to your agent, I can't believe that you would try to lift a finger to help him."

Gibbs turned back. "After everything you _tried_ to do, I can't believe you think I would lift a finger to help _you_."

"Do you honestly think that I'm going to actually face a trial for this, Agent Gibbs?" Jorgenson asked, scoffing at him. "They won't risk someone like me in a prison. Any more than they would risk Agent McGee in a prison. People like us know too much for the law to apply."

"What do you think is going to happen?"

"One of two things. I'll disappear or I'll die. I'll make a deal with you to make sure it's the first."

"A deal?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes. I know you could make it happen. You people aren't incompetent. If you wanted to, you could do it."

Gibbs walked up to the bars.

"You just pointed out the problem."

"What?"

"I _don't_ want to. Maybe you're right and you won't face a trial, but I'd be satisfied if you ended up dead somewhere. I don't make deals. Not with anyone. Definitely not with you. I wouldn't trust you with a penny. I hope you rot."

Then, Gibbs walked out of the holding cell.

"What did he want?" the officer asked.

"Don't know. Couldn't figure it out," he said and went back to his chair.

Was Jorgenson right? Would he just disappear because he knew too much? Gibbs was skeptical. If they were that worried about his knowledge, surely he would have bodyguards. Like Tim did.

Well, he could hope for the dead option. That would be best for all concerned.

When Tony and Ziva arrived, he didn't say anything about Jorgenson's proposal. He just made arrangements for staying the night, making sure that nothing got Jorgenson out of this.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Tim woke up when a beam of light hit him right in the eye. He squinted. He must have slept in, but for the moment, he just couldn't bring himself to care. He looked at Zahara as she slept in his arms, her hand on his bare chest, covering the khamsa necklace he was still wearing.

Maybe he should get moving. There was still work to do, but for the moment, he just couldn't do it. He just wanted to lay there, with his wife, cherishing the life he had. Something beautiful and perfect to purge him of the horrible feeling he'd had yesterday.

But then, as if it was just waiting for him to wake up, his phone started to ring. He rolled over and grabbed it quickly.

"McGee," he said.

Zahara opened her eyes and smiled at him. He rubbed her arm.

" _You still at home, McGee?"_

"Yeah, Boss. Sorry. I just woke up."

" _You okay?"_

"I am, now. Thanks."

" _Good."_

"Did Jorgenson stay for the night?"

" _Yeah."_

"What do you need from me, then, Boss?"

" _I need you to report to Jenny so she's not taken by surprise. Full report and then tell whoever else you need to tell."_

"Okay. What do you think will happen?"

" _Don't know. I'd be okay if Jorgenson just ended up dead."_

"Me, too, but I hope you won't do that."

" _Wouldn't be me."_

"I know. What's going to happen down there?"

" _We'll make arrangements to have him transferred to D.C., probably turned over to the FBI eventually."_

Tim didn't answer, but he hated that idea.

" _Can't have NCIS holding him. We don't have jurisdiction,"_ Gibbs said, correctly interpreting the silence.

"Yeah, I know."

" _We got him for the crimes we can. What happened to you can't figure into it."_

"I know that, too."

" _Then, accept it,"_ Gibbs said, sternly.

"I hear you, Boss."

" _Good. Get moving."_

"I will. Bye."

Gibbs hung up and so did Tim. He looked at Zahara.

"I still have to work."

"I know. Are you late?"

"Technically," Tim said. "But I have a little leniency today as long as I don't abuse the privilege."

"You would not do that."

"I try not to, but I'd better get moving."

"Are you going to run?"

"Not today. Can you make sure Jethro gets a good walk?"

"Yes. You should get ready. I will make breakfast."

"I can just have something simple."

"Yes, you can always have something simple, but not this morning," she said and kissed him.

Then, she got out of bed and went into the bathroom. Tim did need to get to work, but he felt that, this once, he could take his time. So instead of going into the half bath, he just lay where he was and waited. As he did, he thought about what had happened the day before and what he would still need to do. ...and what would happen next.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Are you sure all this extra police presence is necessary, Agent Gibbs? It's just one man."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at the state police officer who was coordinating the transfer from Virginia to D.C.

"This man is the former director of the FBI who is accused of abducting, torturing and attempting to kill the former director of the CIA. He is also accused of conspiracy to kill the wife of the former director of the CIA."

Slowly, the officer's eyes widened as he realized who was involved.

"Do _you_ want to be responsible if something goes wrong because there aren't enough officers?" Tony asked. "I sure don't. Not in today's world."

"I'll just go make sure that everything is ready."

The officer left.

"You'd think he'd pay attention to the name," Tony said.

"Jorgenson is not necessarily an uncommon name," Ziva said, reasonably. "Who would expect this kind of prisoner?"

"Yeah, I know. It bugs me how few people know what a colossal jerk Jorgenson is. Even if the spelling is different, his parents named him well. Claude," Tony said, darkly. "I wish he'd been there when we got to the house. It would be satisfying to see _him_ go down in a hail of bullets."

"Let's just go," Gibbs said. "Our job is to get him to D.C. ...Alive."

"I know," Tony said. "I'll do that, but he's worse than Carew and that's saying something."

"How is Tim?" Ziva asked.

"Fine," Gibbs said. "He'll give a full report to Jenny this morning."

"Good. She will need to know about this."

Gibbs just nodded and then went to make sure that there would be enough security. He didn't care if Jorgenson ended up dead, but he didn't want him to end up disappearing. They needed to _know_ where he was.

He had considered just turning him over to the FBI and being done with it, but he had decided to let Jenny do that and to have a definite trail so that, if Jorgenson did disappear or die, they would know every step that led to it. No way for someone to claim that NCIS had done something wrong en route.

For now, it would just be as normal a transfer as possible, and he would hope that everything turned out well. The more people involved, the less likely it was that something would happen.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tamara woke up, again with Levi holding her hand, but this time, the reason she woke up was because he was now squeezing it almost painfully tightly and he seemed to be having a nightmare or something.

"Levi, I'm right here," she whispered.

He was breathing erratically. Tamara had never realized just how much control Levi had over himself in the entire time they'd known each other. Once he had decided not to lie, he had needed to think fast and to keep himself completely in control, not just of himself but of his situations. Now, that he was _not_ in control, not in any form, it was a real shock and she found that she didn't know exactly how to deal with Levi as he was right now.

But there was no one else to do it.

"Levi!" she said again, more urgently. "I survived. I'm alive. Everything is all right now."

She rubbed her free hand over his head.

"Wake up, Levi. Open your eyes."

Then, she leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. There had really been very little physical closeness between the two of them, but amazingly, this felt completely natural.

And Levi began to calm down.

"Good, Levi. Good. I'm right here."

His eyes never opened, but his grip on her hand relaxed and he seemed to subside back into sleep once more.

If she was honest, Tamara had no idea what would be the best course in this situation. Would it be best to have Levi at home where things might be unpredictable but it was a known space? Or would it be better to keep him in a hospital where there would be doctors on hand at all times in case something went wrong?

For now, at least, he needed the hospital while they worked to stabilize him, to build up his strength again and to make sure that his heart hadn't been too damaged by whatever had been done to him.

She needed to call Bri and tell her that her father had been saved, but at the same time, Tamara wasn't sure that she could deal with Bri's conflicting feelings _and_ Levi's need for recovery at the same time.

Suddenly, the door opened behind her and she turned...to see Bri standing there, looking at her father.

"Bri...how did you–?"

"I got a call first thing this morning," Bri said, not looking away from the bed. "Don't know who it was, the same person who keeps letting me in on these things. It's really irritating...and I can't even blame it on Dad."

"You could have waited," Tamara said. "If he needs to stay in the hospital longer, I'll be transferring him back closer to home."

"Yes, I could have, but I couldn't at the same time."

"How did you get back here? The last visitor, I was asked if he could come."

"They're not really set up for security here," Bri said. "I didn't feel like dealing with convincing them that I am who I say I am so I just got in on my own." She was quiet for a few seconds. "How is he?"

"Physically, he's getting better, but...psychologically..."

"They broke him, didn't they," Bri said, almost in a whisper.

"Yes. At least, that's what he said."

"How? Nothing ever got to him. No one could ever touch him, no matter what they did or what they said. He's legendary in the CIA, Mom. The one man no one could ever touch and the one man who would never lie. How do you break someone like him, someone who can't ever be touched by anything...or anyone?"

Tamara didn't like how Bri had asked the question, but she also sensed there was more to it than just the verbalized question.

"He thought they had killed me when the cabin was destroyed. He thought I was dead."

Another moment of silence and then Bri laughed incredulously and shook her head.

"He always said that everyone could be broken, even him. But he always seemed to be an exception, until now. I know that he spent time as a captive. I know that he was tortured, that people tried and tried to break him. No one ever did it, and it was that simple. No offense, Mom, but I can't believe that what broke him was you."

Tamara reached out her free hand to Bri, still holding onto Levi with her other hand, still trying to be that bridge between her husband and her daughter. Bri didn't move, didn't look away from Levi, and Tamara let her hand drop.

"He said that he always loved us. He just couldn't show it."

"I didn't believe him."

"I know. Even if you did, it wouldn't matter because he couldn't show it. That's why I left, but it's also why I came back. Hope that he could show it now."

"And has he? Even when I've been home, I haven't seen much of it."

"Yes. Not as much as I'd like, not as much as I think he feels, but it's there and he's _trying_ to let me see it. That matters. Bri, he'll do the same with you, too, if you open yourself to the possibility and don't keep pushing him away. Just like he's done with me, he's giving you all the power. Your decision governs what will happen next because he knows he doesn't deserve it. You decide what happens next, Bri. Your father won't make a move if you make it obvious that you don't want him to."

"It's not about me," Bri said.

Now, it was Tamara's turn to laugh incredulously, albeit a bit sadly, too.

"Oh, Brianna, it's _all_ about you. You are angry at being abandoned by the parent you loved so much. And that is your right. Even if he didn't leave physically, he left us all emotionally. You have every right to be angry. You just have to admit that you're trying to punish him now when the tables are turned. And if that's what you want to do, I have to accept it, even though I don't want to. Your father _will_ accept it and never say a word against what he knows he deserves. ...but you are keeping yourself miserable, Bri, and it's not necessary. You can hold grudge against your father with perfect justification for the rest of your life, but it will _never_ make you happy."

Then, suddenly, Levi began to breathe erratically again. Tamara turned away from her daughter and back to her husband, trying to calm him down as his heart rate skyrocketed at a time when it didn't need the strain. Unfortunately, this time, he didn't seem to hear her and an alarm went off as his heart rate continued to climb.

A nurse and a doctor came into the room very quickly. Tamara moved out of the way and stood next to Bri, just watching. The doctor sent the nurse out and she was back in less than a minute with an ice pack. The doctor put the ice pack on Levi's face and held it there. To Tamara's surprise, the alarm stopped beeping as his heart began to slow.

"Ma'am, come back over," the doctor said. "He needs to know you're here."

Instantly, Tamara walked back to the bed and took Levi's hand. Then, Levi's eyes opened and he looked at her.

"You were gone," he whispered.

"No. You were just sleeping, Levi," Tamara said. "Even if I have to leave for a few minutes, I'll still be alive and I'll come back."

He didn't seem quite connected, but it was better than his nightmare.

"What now?" he asked.

"Now, you get better so that we can go back home again."

"Home," he whispered, almost inaudibly. "Home..."

Then, his eyes closed again and his grip on her hand relaxed.

"What happened?" Tamara asked the doctor.

"It's called tachycardia. His heart was weakened by whatever they did to him, and he probably was dreaming of the experience which made him afraid. Once he's more alert and aware, I think you'll find that this happens a lot less, and by the time he's ready to leave, you'll see that it's gone completely, but there may be more of these episodes for the next few days."

"Thank you," Tamara said.

The doctor left and Tamara looked at Levi. She reached out and touched his face gently. She prayed that, awful as this had been, perhaps it might break through the impasse she had felt they'd reached before all this had happened.

She heard a sound behind her and she looked back to see Bri dragging a chair closer to the bed. Bri didn't say a word, but she sat down.

Tamara didn't smile but she wanted to. Maybe this event could have something positive come out of it. It had been horrible enough that perhaps they could find a little bit of good.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Tim went to NCIS and headed up to Jenny's office, hoping that she hadn't already been inundated with requests for details that she couldn't give. He knew he should have come sooner, but this was one time when he had focused on himself and what he had needed.

He got to Cynthia's desk and smiled.

"Good morning. Is Director Shepard in her office?"

"Yes, but she's in a meeting. Is it important?" Cynthia asked.

"I just need to give her a full report of what happened yesterday so that she's ready for..." Tim trailed off at the expression on Cynthia's face. "Who's in there?"

Cynthia's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't answer. Instead, she picked up her phone and called into the office.

Someone important, then. That made Tim nervous. Perhaps it was a bit self-centered to think that all important people were talking about him, but it was the way his mind tended to go.

"Director, Agent McGee is out here. He wanted to give you a report on the operation yesterday."

There was a brief silence.

"Yes, ma'am." Cynthia hung up. "You can go right in, Agent McGee."

"Who's in there?"

Cynthia kept her voice low.

"FBI."

Tim nodded and suppressed the desire to run in the opposite direction. While he recognized that the entire FBI was not to blame for Jorgenson's actions, his mind didn't really distinguish between the former director and the organization. He took a breath, squared his shoulders and walked into the office. Jenny was sitting at her desk, opposite the new FBI director.

"Agent McGee, I'm glad you're here," Jenny said. There was no warning in her voice and Tim allowed himself to relax just a fraction.

"I'm sorry I didn't report in last night, Director," Tim said, "but it was late when I got back to D.C."

"That's all right."

Tim forced himself to look at the FBI director.

"Director Norton," he said neutrally.

"I wasn't aware that we'd met, Agent McGee," Director Norton said.

"We haven't," Tim said. "I just make a point of knowing who all the directors of the federal agencies are, at least the ones associated with law enforcement in any way. It's safer."

"Well, why don't we just get it out in the open, Agent McGee," Director Norton said. "You're more than a little gun-shy about anyone affiliated with the FBI, with the possible exception of Agent Fornell and Agent Sacks. I understand why, but I do hope that you'll give me a chance to screw up before you assume that I will."

Tim smiled a little. "Oh, I don't necessarily think you'll screw up, Director. For me, it's a personal thing. It's how you plan on dealing with _me_ that makes me nervous, not how you run the agency."

"Understood." Director Norton look at Jenny. "Now, would you like me to leave while Agent McGee gives his report?"

"No," Jenny said. "You need to hear this as well."

Tim was surprised and it may have shown on his face a little because Jenny only glanced at him briefly, but she smiled and nodded slightly. He was supposed to tell them both at once. Okay, then.

"Well, yesterday, we received a tip that a former CIA operative had been spotted in southern Virginia."

"From whom?" Jenny asked.

"I can't tell you that, ma'am. This help was contingent upon my not telling _anyone_. I haven't even told Agent Gibbs."

"Very well. Go on."

"We decided to check out the tip as much as we could before heading down there, and at that point, we were joined by Agent Worthing, from the CIA. We ran a joint operation and managed to take down Marc Logan, the former agent. Two others were killed in the take down as well. One surrendered and is in custody."

"Where?" Director Norton asked.

"Currently in southern Virginia but arrangements are being made to have him transferred. He was also promised some leniency because he gave us important information."

"What information?"

"That they had _all_ been hired by someone else. That was Dire..." Tim quickly stopped himself and dropped the title. "Claude Jorgenson."

"As in the former head of the FBI," Director Norton said, sounding a little skeptical.

"Yes. And I was not the one questioning this man, nor was I expecting him to give this information. I'd had some suspicions before, but I did not mention them to him. And about half an hour later Jorgenson showed up at the house, claiming to have business with Logan. He was arrested and will also be transferred up here. Also, during the course of the operation, we found Levi Carew in the basement of the house." Tim paused and looked at Jenny. "He'd been tortured and probably would have died in another day or two. He is currently in a hospital in South Boston being treated. Agent Gibbs, Agent DiNozzo and Agent David are all still down with the prisoners, and Levi Carew's wife is with him in the hospital."

"Do you have any questions, Director Norton?" Jenny asked.

"Just one for the moment."

"Yes?"

"Why was NCIS involved?" he asked, bluntly. "You have no reason. Nothing you have said involved the Navy in any way, shape or form. This was not your job to be doing. If anything it should have been the FBI, working in concert with the CIA. Not NCIS."

Tim glanced at Jenny, silently asking permission to tell the truth. She gave him a questioning glance back, but he nodded. Reluctantly, she nodded back.

"That would be because of me, Director," Tim said. "When Levi was abducted, they also tried to kill his wife. She managed to get away and she came to me, asking me for help in finding her husband. I suggested that the police could have been involved and probably should have been, but she was adamant that this was not something for the police, and she was likely right. But she didn't want to trust anyone else. I asked my team for help. Later, when it became clear that there was a CIA connection to this case, I began to work with Daniel Worthing, someone I had met before."

"And you permitted this, Director Shepard?"

"Yes, I did."

"Why?"

"Because Agent McGee can be very persuasive," she said. "And like it or not, things have played out to the point that the normal rules don't apply to him. For _that_ , you can mostly blame your predecessor who tried to make that change, only with a different desired outcome."

"I do understand that you can easily claim jurisdiction in this case," Tim said. "And very likely, once Jorgenson and the mercenary are transferred to D.C., we'll make arrangements to transfer them to FBI custody, but my intention was not to do something and keep the FBI out of it. The plain fact of the matter is that I asked for help from people I already know and trust and, as you said, I'm gun-shy when it comes to the FBI, and I wouldn't want to get Agent Fornell, one of the few FBI agents I do know and trust, in trouble by asking him to do something that he probably shouldn't be doing."

Director Norton was quiet for a few seconds, leaving Tim worrying that something would really go wrong here. It was his first time interacting with the FBI in years and he wasn't particularly happy about it.

Then, to his surprise, Director Norton smiled.

"Agent McGee, you are amazingly adept at trying to smooth ruffled feathers, whether they're actually ruffled or not."

"Thank you?" Tim asked.

Director Norton turned his attention back to Jenny.

"If you do intend to transfer your prisoners to FBI custody, as you should, I will expect to be informed of their arrival in D.C., and I will expect to get copies of the information you have so far. If this mercenary is willing to cooperate, we'll be happy to support the plea for leniency. Is that satisfactory, Director Shepard?"

Jenny glanced at Tim and he nodded slightly.

"With the stipulation that whatever happens to Jorgenson will be shared with us," she said. "He has proven himself to be dangerous whether in the FBI or out of it, and the last thing I want is to have him free out there and determined to get revenge because Agent McGee managed to beat him yet again."

"All things considered, I can see your point. You do realize that a trial is unlikely, given the circumstances."

"I realize that," Tim said before Jenny could. "I hate it, but I get it. I just want to know that I don't have to worry about him. Director, I'm married. I already have my wife with protection 24/7 because I don't know who _else_ might come after me, but I already know that Jorgenson _has_ come after me before and likely would again if he had the chance to do it. Until I'm obsolete or dead, that's my life and reducing the number of people I _know_ are after me is just going to make it easier."

Director Norton paused for a few seconds and then nodded.

"Understood. I'll have to give it some thought, but rest assured that I _will_ think about it and you'll know."

"Thank you."

"Now, I have another appointment this morning before I get to my regular duties. Is there anything else, Director?"

"No, Director Norton."

"Good." He stood up and left the room without another word.

"I'm sorry to put you on the spot like that, McGee," Jenny said. "Director Norton has been busily berating the people who have kept him in the dark about what was going on. Apparently, he was receiving calls from other important people wanting to know what had happened and why he hadn't been given any information. I wanted to demonstrate that it wasn't out of malice."

"I understand."

"Is there anything you left out?"

"Well, Marc Logan is dead and the CIA have disposed of his body. They plan on this just being gone. No mess. The FBI is welcome to deal with the other bodies and with Jorgenson as far as the CIA is concerned."

"And you?" Jenny asked. "Can you let the FBI deal with everything else?"

"I think I'll have to. Director Norton is right. We can't be the ones holding Jorgenson. We can't be the ones pursuing charges against him."

"But you're right, too. You need to know where he is."

"I'll have to hope that Director Norton is a better person than Jorgenson ever was."

Jenny smiled sympathetically.

"How was Carew?"

"Almost dead. They broke him."

Jenny just nodded.

"How are _you_ doing?"

"I'm okay. I'll be better when I know more how this is going to play out, but Gibbs made me go home last night and that helped. That's why I was later coming in this morning. I was home."

"No need to apologize, unless it becomes a habit."

"It won't."

"I know." Then, Jenny took a breath and became more professional. "All things considered, Agent McGee, it would be better if you weren't present when Jorgenson arrives. However much publicity there is with this, we don't want you associated with him or his arrest. The transfer to FBI custody will happen fairly quickly, but I think you should make yourself scarce. I'll give you advance notice of their arrival and then you should be conspicuous by your absence."

"I can do that."

"I know. One thing more."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"You shouldn't have involved NCIS in this."

"I know. If I had thought I could do it on my own, I would have."

" _You_ shouldn't have been involved," Jenny said.

"Yes, I should have. I know you don't understand. I know no one understands, but I had to be. From the moment Tamara Carew asked for my help, I had to be. Even if it had led to me losing my job. I would have given it up to do this."

"You'd give up your job to save Levi Carew?"

Tim smiled a little. "I'd give up my life to save him if it was necessary."

"Why?"

"I wish I could explain it in a way that people would understand, but I've tried and not even Gibbs is willing to understand it. He's accepted it because he has no choice, but he doesn't understand because no one here can look beyond the past. I think it's sad, but it's true. So I hope you'll forgive me, Director, if I don't try to tell you. I'll accept any kind of punishment you think I should have if that's what you want to do, and while I'll apologize for making your job harder to do, I won't apologize for what I did. Jurisdiction or not, it needed to be done. And no one else would have done it."

"No one?"

"No one. Because Tamara came to me, and she was terrified of being found. We didn't know who was to blame. The CIA couldn't legally do it. The FBI... should have done it. But I could do it. Like you said, the normal rules don't apply to me anymore."

And suddenly, Tim was struck by what he'd just said. He was in the gray area here. He had _used_ his ability to move into the gray area to make sure they had the time and the ability to find Levi. No one else could have done what he did.

Because he could be gray when he wanted to be.

"Agent McGee? Are you all right?"

Tim blinked and looked at Jenny. He nodded.

"I was saying that I'm not going to give you any punishment for this, but you need to be aware of how this could have ended."

"I am."

Tim knew that Jenny wasn't satisfied with that response, but what else could he say? That he regretted his decision? That would be a lie, and he wasn't going to lie about that.

"Very well. Go tell who you need to tell about this and then make sure you're elsewhere when Jorgenson arrives."

"Yes, ma'am."

Tim nodded one last time and then left the office. He walked past Cynthia and gave her a smile, but then, he walked to the elevator and got on. He sent it down to Autopsy.

...but he stopped it mid-descent.

And he sat on the floor of the elevator, thinking about what he'd realized.

How did he feel about knowing that he really wasn't living the black-and-white life he'd thought he was?

"I'm gray," he whispered into the empty elevator.

"I'm gray."


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

He woke up again. He remembered waking up before. He remembered that Tamara had been there, that he hadn't really believed she was, but that she had been.

Was she here still?

He thought about it, and there was a hand holding his.

He managed to turn his head and he saw her. Tamara was there beside him. Asleep.

"Dad?"

The soft voice startled him. Where had the voice come from? He tried not to panic.

"Dad. I'm over here. Other side."

He turned his head and yes, there was the source of the voice.

"Brianna," he said.

She was standing by the window, staring at him.

He stared back, not sure what to do. He couldn't let go of Tamara. Even looking away from her, he wasn't sure if she was really there.

"I don't know what to do, now," she said after a silent minute.

He really didn't know how to answer her unspoken question. He knew that he would have had an easy response before, but at this moment, he really couldn't think of a single thing to say.

Bri walked over to him and sat down. There was a searching expression on her face.

"How did they break you? I can see that they did, but how? No one ever broke you."

He looked at her again and then he looked away...so that he could see Tamara.

"She was dead," he whispered finally.

"No, she wasn't. She never was. You might have thought she was, but she wasn't."

"She was dead," he said again. There was no way to explain what had managed to tear him apart in any other words. That was all it had taken.

"No, Dad. Mom didn't die."

He couldn't explain in normal words. He really couldn't, but he tried.

"All of them died," he said, seeing the pages of photos in his mind's eye. "One after another. Dead. Even Papa. Dead, years after. That's what the farm is for."

"What are you talking about, Dad?"

But then, Tamara woke up and he forgot about Bri. He looked at Tamara and she smiled gently at him.

"Levi, how are you feeling?"

He didn't know how to answer that question, either, but Tamara hadn't yet disappeared. She was still there.

"You're here," he whispered.

"Yes, I am."

He reached out to touch her face and felt the joy when he could feel her there.

He closed his eyes. Another psalm came into his mind, and he didn't know how he could remember it when everything else in his brain was so scrambled. This was another prayer. Again, it was back to King David. He wasn't sure why it was always King David. He didn't remember being focused on him in school, but he was now. The 51st psalm was all about pleading for forgiveness for sins.

"Hein emet chafatza va-tuchot, uv'satum choch'mah todi-eini  
T'chat'eini v'eizov v'et-har, t'chab'seini umi-sheleg albin"

"Levi, what are you saying?"

But he couldn't manage both to say his prayer and to answer her question, so he chose to finish.

"Tashmi-eini sason v'simchah, tageilnah atzamot dikita  
Hasteir panecha meichata-ai, v'chol avonotai m'cheih  
Leiv tahor b'ra li Elohim, v'ruach nachon chadeish b'kirbi"

He didn't open his eyes, but Tamara didn't say anything else. That was fine. Speaking wasn't necessary.

If only it was as simple as being cleansed by God, but life didn't really work like that. It wasn't as easy as asking. But for now, the simple act of reciting the prayer tired him out and he fell asleep, still holding Tamara's hand.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ducky pushed the button for the elevator, but it didn't come. Since he knew that Gibbs wasn't there, he was surprised. He stood there for a few minutes, wondering if he should just take the stairs.

"Something wrong with the elevator, Dr. Mallard?" Jimmy asked.

"I don't know. I suppose it's possible."

Then, there was a ding and the doors opened, revealing Tim looking a little troubled.

"Timothy! I didn't know you had come back already."

Tim smiled a little. "Gibbs sent me home last night."

"Did you find Carew?" Jimmy asked.

"Yeah," Tim said, but he looked bothered still. "He was...really in a bad way. I'll bet he would have been dead in another day or two."

"But he's not," Ducky said.

"No. He's in a hospital with Tamara. And we arrested Jorgenson. He showed up."

"It sounds as though it was as successful as it could have been."

Tim nodded.

"Is something wrong, Timothy?"

Tim shrugged. "It was...just hard seeing him that way, but they're bringing Jorgenson up here and Director Shepard doesn't want me there when they arrive."

"Ah. So what are your plans in the meantime?"

"Passing the word along to the people who should know."

"And that's why you came down here?"

Tim smiled. "Yeah. And to thank you both for supporting what I wanted to do."

"My pleasure," Ducky said.

"You were right, Tim," Jimmy added. "There's nothing wrong with that. ...can I tell Breena that you're available for dinner now?"

Tim's smile this time was more genuine.

"Give me a day or two to decompress first. Maybe this weekend?"

"I'll tell her."

"Great."

Then, Jimmy went back into Autopsy. Ducky looked at Tim more closely and it seemed that there was still something wrong.

"Timothy, you still seem upset about something. Were you in the elevator?"

Tim looked a little embarrassed.

"Yeah, I was. Just needed to do some thinking and I knew I could be alone in there."

"May I ask what you were thinking about?"

At first, Ducky thought that Tim was going to say no or that he would dissemble and act as though he was fine when he was clearly bothered by _something_. Then, Tim took a breath and let it out in a whoosh.

"Yeah, but could it be outside?"

"Of course. What's wrong, Timothy?"

"Just my brain," Tim said, managing to smile a little.

"Well, then, I'm certainly curious and if you think it might help, I'm also willing to be a listening ear."

"I appreciate that," Tim said.

They left the building and walked to Willard Park.

"Now," Ducky said as they sat on a bench, "what were you thinking about?"

Tim looked away from him, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"I was giving my report to Director Shepard and I suddenly realized something, Ducky."

"What?"

"I'm gray."

Ducky furrowed his brow. He wasn't following this conversation and he didn't like being confused.

"You don't seem particularly gray to me," he said, testing the waters.

Tim didn't smile.

"I've spent the last ten years trying to live my life in black and white. Good and bad. Right and wrong. ...legal and illegal. Every time I've been pulled into that gray area, I've fought tooth and nail to get back to black and white. ...and all this time, I was...gray." Tim sat up and stared at him, looking more than a little upset. "The only reason I could do this for Levi, the only reason I could open an investigation into what happened to him was because I _don't_ live a life that's black and white. My life is gray, Ducky, and it has been all along. This thing that I've hated and tried to avoid is... it's me."

And now it made sense. Ducky was well aware of Tim's reluctance to live the life that had taken him away from everything good, and yet, he had willingly walked into that life more than once and not even seemed bothered by it in the past.

"Timothy, surely you aren't now thinking that saving Levi Carew was a mistake."

"No!"

"Then, what's the problem?" Ducky asked. "What you did was a good thing, something that few others would have done and you succeeded. If you agree that this was a good thing, then, what's wrong?"

"I've been lying to myself, Ducky," Tim said, seeming distressed. "I've been trying to be the good guy all these years, but..."

"But nothing. You are."

"Then, why am I living in this gray area and why didn't I even notice that I was?"

"Timothy, when you say that you live in the gray area, what do you mean by gray?"

"There are no rules I have to live by. What happens depends entirely on whether or not a good person is making the decision. No laws, no rules."

"Then, it's a good thing you're there to make that decision, Timothy, because you _are_ a good person. If that is your definition of _gray_ , then, what you are describing is completely neutral. It can easily be skewed to one side or the other, but it is neutral. If you are there in that world, you can turn it into good."

"But I don't like...not having rules. Rules are...safer."

Ducky felt his brow furrowing again.

"Safer? For whom?"

"For me," Tim said. "I don't want to get pulled into...doing the wrong things. Again."

"Timothy, why would you worry about that? While you're not perfect, of course, you have never willingly done the wrong thing."

"Except when I did," Tim said.

"Meaning?"

"When I was going to get revenge. When I was going to kill the people who controlled me."

Ducky nodded in understanding.

"When you'd had a mental breakdown."

"No, Ducky. I mean, I did, but I wanted to kill them before I'd fallen apart."

"Not having been there when you were in that situation, I could be wrong, but Timothy, everything that you've been willing to tell us about that period of time indicates that you were far from thinking clearly, even before the final mental break. There were plenty of cracks beforehand."

"I still like having rules."

Ducky chanced a smile. "Even when you know that you have a mostly consequence-free choice about whether to follow them or not?"

To his relief, Tim managed to smile back.

"Yeah. At least I can pretend the limits are still there."

"I won't try to force you to ignore them, of course, but Timothy, the true limits are inside of you, not laws written on a page. Your morals and your ethics are the limits and those exist no matter where you are, no matter what the situation. You have lived most of your life by a particular code and _that_ is what makes you the good man you are. The good man we all know and care about."

Tim shifted around and looked uncomfortable at the praise, but Ducky wanted to drive the point home as deeply as possible.

"A man whose moral compass is so deeply ingrained that he was willing to set everything aside to help a man who nearly ruined his life and did his best to make sure that he was safe."

"Ducky..."

"And a man I count myself lucky to have as a friend and colleague," Ducky said. "Timothy, this was successful. Don't let yourself start feeling like a failure because you've suddenly become aware of what has been true all along. You don't have to seek out these gray places in the world, but don't be afraid of them. Don't be afraid of yourself. There's no need."

Ducky patted Tim on the back.

"Thanks, Ducky," Tim said softly and then let out a loud exhalation. "I should probably make myself conspicuous by my absence."

"Perhaps it would be worth seeing if Dr. Hicks is available," Ducky said.

Tim looked at him in surprise.

"You could kill two birds with one stone. I think you might benefit from talking this out with him _and_ I believe he is also an acquaintance of Carew. He would likely want to know the good news."

"You're probably right, Ducky," Tim said. "Thanks for...letting me talk about it."

"My pleasure. Now, I should get back to work and you should make sure you're gone when Jethro arrives."

"Yeah."

Tim got up and walked away from the park, toward his car. Ducky watched him go and felt both a bit of sadness and a bit of relief. While this had been a shock to Tim's mind, he was strong enough that he had been able to deal with it and explain himself without having a meltdown. He hadn't resisted the idea of getting some extra help and he had listened to what Ducky had said.

Perhaps this was something he would _not_ share with the others. Given the nature of the team's perspective on Tim and the events in his life, it might just be better to let Tim work through it as he was able and _not_ with the well-meaning aid of his colleagues.

Decision made, Ducky stood and headed into the building.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

They had just passed by Ashland when Gibbs' phone rang. He hoped that it wouldn't be something going wrong. He answered.

"Gibbs."

" _Gibbs, the FBI is aware that you're coming here. They're planning on taking Jorgenson into custody as soon as possible,"_ Jenny said.

"And I'm supposed to just hand him over?" Gibbs asked skeptically. "Doesn't sound like a good idea."

" _It's the only idea. Director Norton is already upset that he was completely cut out of this whole thing. He has jurisdiction and if he decides to raise a stink, that will give us a lot more scrutiny than we want to have. You're going to deliver Jorgenson to NCIS, process everything, make copies and hand Jorgenson_ and _the mercenary over to the FBI."_

"Whoa. I don't think so. He's the only evidence of Jorgenson's involvement."

" _I know that, but you don't have a choice, Gibbs. Director Norton has agreed to uphold the deal you made with him."_

"And you're trusting him?"

" _Yes."_

"Bad idea, Jen."

" _Jethro, I'm aware that you sometimes forget this, but let me remind you that I am the director of NCIS and I have been for years. This is not a position I got because of my pretty face. I am well aware of the politics surrounding this situation and I would appreciate it if you would do me the courtesy of acknowledging that you don't always have all the answers."_

There was a pause.

" _Director Norton has not shown any hint of sympathy toward Jorgenson. Not to me, nor to anyone else. When he was confirmed in his position, he said nothing for or against Jorgenson and he has not once stepped beyond what he is allowed to do. He also has the respect of other agencies. He has spoken with McGee and agrees that McGee should know what happens to Jorgenson, no matter what that is. We have done everything we can to make sure that this turns out for the best. So you will bring them both to NCIS and we will transfer everything over to the FBI. Understood?"_

"Yeah."

" _Good."_

The conversation ended abruptly. Gibbs knew that he'd stepped over the line, but he didn't like the idea that they'd have to trust the FBI to take care of Jorgenson. Even if Director Norton didn't think much of him, surely, he'd still have some allies there.

"What's the word, Boss?" Tony asked.

"FBI is taking over once we get to D.C."

"The FBI? That doesn't seem like a good plan."

"Nope."

"No choice, then?"

"Probably not."

"I just don't..."

The conversation ended abruptly.

There hadn't been a whole lot of traffic on the road, but there was enough that they'd seen plenty of cars pass by. They were getting closer to D.C. and that meant more traffic. It was normal.

Until suddenly, things weren't normal anymore.

Suddenly, a blue car with tinted windows swerved around them at top speed. The convoy consisted of five cars. Gibbs and Tony were in a car in the very back. Ziva was in one police car with the mercenary. Jorgenson was in another car with two police and two unmarked cars were in front.

Jorgenson's car was third in the line.

The dark blue car came level with Jorgenson's car.

"Boss..." Tony said.

Gibbs saw it and sped up, moving around Ziva's car, headed for the blue car, ready to ram it if necessary.

The back seat window in Jorgenson's car shattered and the police car began to swerve as one of the tires blew out. Then, the blue car sped up again and zoomed off down the road, moving onto the shoulder as the car in the front of the convoy moved into the left-hand lane, trying to block it. The second unmarked car took off after it, but Gibbs would be surprised if he managed to keep up with it. The car had been moving extremely fast, probably over 100 mph.

Tony got on the radio.

"Ziva, you guys keep going with the first car. Don't stop until you get to NCIS."

" _Understood. We have called for additional backup."_

"We're stopping with Jorgenson's car. Send the police here, too."

" _Will do."_

Tony looked at Gibbs as they slowed down, took the emergency access turnaround and headed back to where Jorgenson's car had gone off the road. Other people were slowing down as well, but Gibbs wanted to make sure that everything was in control. He had his suspicions about what had just happened, but until he was sure, he didn't want to lose what he had.

They got back to the police car and saw the officer who had been driving just opening the door.

"Looks like he's okay," Tony said.

"Yeah," Gibbs said, grimly.

They pulled over to the side of the road and got out. Gibbs headed for the car while Tony began to control the good Samaritans who had also stopped.

"Are you both okay?" Gibbs asked the officer.

Denton had a black eye and a couple of cuts on his face, but he nodded.

"Cassie is..." he gestured.

Gibbs looked and saw the other officer leaning over the backseat.

"Jorgenson?" he asked.

"Dead," Denton said grimly. "That was the goal. He could have shot me easy but he didn't."

"You see him?"

"Yeah, but it might not have been enough. Once my tired blew, I had to focus on not causing an accident."

"We'll try."

"Okay. I've been on the force for twenty years and I've never had this happen before."

Denton shook his head and ran his hands through his hair.

"Never."

Cassie stood up and looked at Gibbs. She seemed shaken but uninjured.

"There was more than one shot, but only one hit him. Right in the head," she said.

"No chance," Gibbs said.

She shook her head. "It's a mess back here. I'd say death was nearly instantaneous."

"And Cal didn't think there was any reason for all this security," Denton said. "And five cars wasn't enough to stop this."

"If someone wants it enough..."

"Yeah. I guess they did. You know why?"

"I have my guess," Gibbs said.

Another police car pulled up with its lights flashing. An ambulance showed up two minutes later, accompanied by two other police cars. In less than ten minutes, the road was shut down in both directions while they evaluated the situation.

Gibbs and Tony stayed back, letting this be in police jurisdiction.

After an hour, he got a call.

"Gibbs."

" _We are at NCIS, Gibbs,"_ Ziva said.

"Good. Any problems?"

" _None. Jorgenson?"_

"Dead. Shot in the head."

There was a pause.

" _Anyone else?"_

"Nope. Not the goal."

" _Understood. You and Tony are safe?"_

"Yeah. McGee there?"

" _No. Director Shepard said she had sent him away so that he wouldn't be associated with Jorgenson when he arrived."_

That had been a good idea, but now, Gibbs didn't like it.

"Call him. Find out where he is."

" _I will."_

Gibbs hung up and looked at Tony.

"They made it to the Yard."

Tony nodded with relief. "Good." He looked back at the wrecked police car. "I never thought this would happen."

"Jorgenson said he figured he'd either disappear or die."

"How do you know?"

"He told me last night, wanted me to make sure he just disappeared."

"I hope you didn't agree," Tony said.

Gibbs just raised an eyebrow at him. Was there really any question of that? Tony should know better.

"I'm not sure how I feel about this, Boss. I mean, I don't really care too much that he's dead. All that crap he pulled. But I don't know. It's one thing to take someone out in a firefight, but gunned down when he couldn't defend himself... I don't know. Seems a bit low. Who do you think did it?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Take your pick. Plenty of choices."

"Yeah. You think that it would be the FBI?"

Gibbs considered it. That was certainly a possibility. Jorgenson was an embarrassment and he might be considered a security risk, but assassination like this? That seemed a bit beyond what the FBI would do, especially when they were going to be taking him into custody anyway. CIA would make sense, but at the same time, why would they do it? NSA? Again, why? Even if they liked Tim, he couldn't see that assassinating Jorgenson would be their choice. The President himself? Unlikely.

"Don't know."

"Yeah, me either."

"Don't really care."

Tony smiled grimly. "I don't, either, but it would be nice if we knew exactly why he was dead."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow again.

"We know why. He went too far."

He looked over at the car. They were finally removing Jorgenson's body. Tony followed his gaze.

"Well? What now?"

"FBI can have him. They wanted him," Gibbs said and walked back to his car.

It was a little unsettling, but he was glad that Jorgenson was dead and as long as the reason for killing him wasn't to go after Tim too, Gibbs genuinely didn't care what had been the motivation.

Tim's life would be better with Jorgenson out of the way.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"...and so if you want to see him now, he's in the hospital in South Boston," Tim finished.

Dr. Hicks nodded. "That sounds like quite the adventure you had, Tim. How are you feeling about it?"

"Well, I..." Tim's phone rang. "Oh, I'm sorry. I meant to turn this off," he said, fumbling for it.

"That's all right. I'm sure you're still officially on the clock. Just answer it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Tim nodded and answered. He stood up and walked over to the window, giving just a little bit of separation. Dr. Hicks waited patiently.

"Hey, Ziva. Yeah, I'm fine. Why would you–?" Tim paled and looked at Dr. Hicks. "What? Is everyone okay? Are you? Gibbs and Tony?"

"What happened, Tim?"

Tim held up his hand.

"Okay. Yes. I'll be there soon." Then, he laughed weakly. "Ziva, remember that I'm _never_ alone on the road. Okay. _Okay_. Yes, I promise. Bye."

Tim hung up and then walked back. He sat down with a heavy thump.

"What is it, Tim?" Dr. Hicks asked.

"Jorgenson is dead."

"How?"

"They were transferring him up to NCIS. Someone shot him. They drove by and shot him. Ziva said that he was specifically targeted."

Dr. Hicks looked at Tim closely. It was clear that he'd been shocked by this development, and yet, Dr. Hicks would be surprised if Tim genuinely cared that Jorgenson was dead. He'd expressed intense hatred for the man in the past and it was unlikely that his death would really have changed that.

"Does that bother you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because..." Tim actually managed to smile a little. "...because it doesn't. And it should."

"Why should it?"

"Because he was defenseless. It's not right to go after someone when they can't fight back."

"But you aren't really bothered?"

"Jorgenson tried to do that to me. Tried to take me down when he thought I couldn't fight back." Suddenly, Tim sounded angry, moreso than he had in years. "He was no different than the people who tortured me. They had me at their mercy, trying to force me to do things that I didn't want to do. The only difference was that Jorgenson wasn't actually using physical force. But it doesn't matter! He was no different than Jubran. Enjoying my pain! I know how it feels because _he_ did it to me! And... But I..." The angry vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. "But it's wrong to be glad that he's dead."

Dr. Hicks leaned forward. "No, it's not, Tim. It's human to feel relief, even satisfaction, when someone who hurt you also suffers. You didn't seek out that kind of satisfaction. The fact that someone else has killed him..."

"My whole life for the last decade has been like this, Dr. Hicks. I just realized it today. Just before I came here. I really was going to talk to you about it, but... but I didn't want to."

"About what?" Dr. Hicks asked, confused.

"I've said over and over that I don't want to be in that gray area."

"Yes, I know."

"But I am. I always have been. I just deluded myself into thinking that I wasn't, that I could leave it behind. But I can't. It's right here. It's the whole reason I'm here talking to you. It's the reason I could be the one to find Levi. It's because I _am_ gray."

That was interesting. He did wonder what had brought that on, but for the moment, he let Tim talk.

"This is just another aspect of it. Was Jorgenson killed because of me? Because of Carew?"

"Because of the fact that he had proven himself to be untrustworthy and dangerous?" Dr. Hicks interrupted. "You've come a long way since you felt you were to blame for everything that happened around you, Tim. Don't fall back into that habit."

But then, Dr. Hicks understood. Tim was facing a bit of an identity crisis. Something had forced him to take a hard look at himself and now, he didn't know how to deal with the idea that he was living the life he'd always declared he hated.

"Gray is not black, Tim," he said.

He was glad to see Tim smile a little.

"People have told me that before, but I don't like it, Dr. Hicks. I don't...but...at the same time, that's why I could help Levi...because the rules don't apply to me unless I let them apply. That's not the way it should be!"

Tim seemed extremely distressed by this realization and Dr. Hicks was of two minds about it. On the one hand, he understood that there was just a bit of a crisis. On the other hand, Tim lived a good life and he _did_ choose to follow the rules set down by society. There shouldn't be much of an issue here.

But there was.

"Tim, your life is atypical. You've known that and I thought you'd accepted it."

"I had...until now."

"You are not a bad person, Tim. You're simply someone who moves through the world slightly differently than others do. And that difference is so slight that no one notices until an extreme event occurs. You live a good life, Tim. Don't let this realization make you question that."

Tim smiled a little. "Too late."

"Well, then, _stop_ questioning it. You're not perfect, but you're a good person with a solid moral center and you haven't let the things that happened to you change that. So stop worrying so much about what it means. It doesn't mean anything except that what has been true is now obvious to you. That's it."

Tim nodded and took a deep breath.

"I need to get back to NCIS. See what's going to happen now."

Dr. Hicks could tell that Tim wasn't yet convinced, but he seemed calmer and that was probably the best he could expect for now.

"All right. Thanks for letting me know about Levi."

"Of course," Tim said. "There are too few people who care about him. Might as well make sure they all know."

"True."

Tim left the office and Dr. Hicks leaned back to think. Jorgenson dead. It was a shock, but really, it was probably for the best. He was not likely to be willing to accept defeat, given his actions. Tim would never have been completely safe with him free. The question was who had done it, but Dr. Hicks found that he didn't really care. For him, while he would never have taken steps to kill Jorgenson himself, and he would believe that, should the person be caught, he should face justice, Jorgenson himself had eluded justice for far too long and it was a relief that he was out of the picture.

And since he was, that left Dr. Hicks free to see if it was a good time to see how Levi was doing.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

Tim headed back to NCIS, his mind racing. Jorgenson being dead wasn't the problem. Or rather, it was but it wasn't at the same time. He decided to make a call just to see if he could find out _something_ , but because he was so wound up, he decided to pull off the road before dialing.

" _Director Gellman."_

"Director, this is Tim McGee."

" _How did it go?"_

"Levi was alive. He's in the hospital but he was pretty bad off."

" _That doesn't surprise me. Jorgenson?"_

"We arrested him, but he's dead now."

" _How?"_

Tim couldn't tell from Director Gellman's voice whether or not he was actually unaware.

"Someone killed him as NCIS as the state police were transferring him to D.C."

" _I guess that's one less person for you to have to worry about, Agent McGee."_

Tim hesitated and then decided just to ask.

"Did you do it?"

There was a long pause.

" _No. Nor did I have any of my people do it. If I was going to have someone killed, I'd be a lot more subtle about it."_

Strangely enough, that made Tim feel better, in part because Director Gellman hadn't been making a joke. He was serious. He wouldn't go this route and it made sense that the NSA wouldn't.

"Do you know who did?"

" _No, but you can take your pick as to who might have wanted to and who had the clout. I won't ask why you care, but you're better off with Jorgenson dead."_

"I know that. It just..."

" _...doesn't seem right."_

"No."

" _Well, I won't argue right or wrong with you, Agent McGee, but I'd say that this is a case where you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Turn it over to someone else and let it go. I doubt you'll ever find out who did it."_

"Will you?" Tim asked, finding that he could smile a little bit.

" _If I do, I doubt I'll tell anyone."_

There was a bit of a smile in Director Gellman's voice, too.

"Understood."

" _Good. Now, Agent Bishop will be expecting you to be back to your usual antics but I'm guessing you won't be getting around to it this week."_

"Not very likely. Director, can I ask why you have me working with her? She doesn't trust me."

" _That's why. It's good to have someone suspicious on hand. Her main problem is that, really, she would be better suited for a more straightforward job, but she's very good at what she does so we keep her. But I know she'd probably find it easier to have a job more like yours at NCIS, one where mostly, it's not classified and mostly, it's simple investigations, not subterfuge. Letting her be the one watching you is a way to let her feel on more solid ground."_

"I see," Tim said. "I need to get back to work."

" _Thank you for filling me in on what's happening, Agent McGee. I like being in the know."_

Now, Tim did smile.

"I never would have guessed."

Director Gellman actually chuckled and then hung up the phone. Tim didn't linger on the side of the road. He simply put his car in gear and eased back into traffic.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

He was back at the farm, but for some reason, he felt like he was going the wrong way.

" _Levi..."_

He could hear her voice.

" _Levi, come back."_

It was coming from behind him. All that distance he'd covered, but she was now back the other way. He looked the way he was going. One more corner and he'd be there...but what was the point if Tamara wasn't there?

" _Levi, please."_

He turned around. It seemed like a distance much too far for him to get there. The end was much closer than the beginning.

But the beginning was where he should be.

He began to take slow, faltering steps toward Tamara's voice. The road was rough, bumpy, he kept tripping, but he had to get back.

"I'm trying," he whispered. "I'm trying to get back."

But it was just so far.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim arrived at NCIS without a hitch, and he hurried inside. As he got on the elevator, his phone rang.

"McGee."

" _Tim, are you all right?"_

"Zahara?"

" _It was on the TV. There was a crash, they said. I saw Tony and Agent Gibbs, but I did not see you."_

"I wasn't there, Zahara," Tim said. "I was at NCIS. I'm fine."

" _Are you sure?"_

Tim smiled as the elevator doors opened.

"Yes, I'm positive. I'm just going to see what happened."

" _Will you be home tonight?"_

"I can't think of any reason why I wouldn't be."

" _Stay safe."_

"I will. Love you."

" _I love you. Bye."_

"Bye."

Tim hung up and walked over to Ziva.

"What happened?" Tim asked. "How did this happen? Was anyone else hurt?"

"No one else was hurt. Not even the officer driving the car," Ziva said. "It was very well planned. This was not a random event. Someone intended to kill Jorgenson and to kill only him. The mercenary was not targeted. Someone wanted him dead, not in prison or free."

"What's going to happen now?" Tim asked.

"I do not know. The FBI was going to take custody. Maybe that is what will happen now."

"Maybe. How long do you think it will take for Gibbs and Tony to get back here?"

"I think they will stay until everything is settled."

"You're probably right."

Tim took a deep breath, walked back to his desk and sat down, letting the air out in a whoosh. This was just not what he had expected from today.

"I guess I could start writing up my report. This _was_ my case, after all."

Ziva smiled. "We will all do our best to make sure our reports meet your standards."

Tim smiled back. "I won't be as bad as Gibbs."

"I am not sure of that."

Tim laughed. "I couldn't possibly be worse than Gibbs."

Ziva smiled and didn't reply. Tim didn't know if that was because it was obviously true or if Ziva didn't believe him. Either way, it lightened the mood a little bit and that was good. He started to work on his report. Even if NCIS didn't have jurisdiction, it had obviously been involved and an accounting of time and resources devoted to finding Levi would need to be made.

For about half an hour, it was relatively silent as both he and Ziva worked on their reports.

Then, his desk phone rang.

"McGee."

" _Agent McGee, I need you in MTAC. Right now."_

"Yes, Director."

There was a click. He looked at Ziva.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I don't know. Director Shepard said I needed to get into MTAC and then she hung up."

"I would not delay."

"No."

Tim stood and hurried up to MTAC. When he got inside, Jenny was there, looking very grave.

"What is it?" he asked.

"A message. An anonymous message."

"About what?"

Jenny looked at one of the technicians. "Put it on the screen."

"Yes, ma'am."

"This was sent to us about twenty minutes ago. We've been trying to figure out where it came from."

"Us?"

"NCIS, specifically, to MTAC with no indication of who or how it was done," Jenny said.

Then, there was a video on the screen. It was very short. Only a few seconds. But what it showed was very obvious. It was a recording of Jorgenson's death...with a camera obviously attached to the gun being used. There was no sound.

Until the very end.

A robotic, computer-generated voice came in over the video.

" _This is a gift, Agent McGee. You would never be safe with him out there. None of us would be safe with him out there."_

Tim felt his mouth drop open.

"Do you have any idea who this is, Agent McGee?" Jenny asked.

"No, ma'am," Tim said, softly, staring at the now-blank screen. "I have no idea."

"Are you sure of that?"

Tim forced himself to look at her. "Positive. The only person I could think of who might view this as a gift is Levi Carew, but he's in no position to do it or to order someone else to do it. When I stopped at the hospital last night, he was unconscious and his wife told me he was only speaking in Hebrew. Beyond him, I really don't know who would have done this, still less as a favor to _me_. It...kind of... bothers me that someone would think this is what I want."

Jenny's stern expression softened a bit and she appeared to relent.

"All right. I've got our people working on trying to figure out where it came from, but whoever sent it seems to be a master. It doesn't seem to have _any_ point of origin, masked or otherwise. If you think of something, please tell me."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You're dismissed."

"Thank you, Director."

Tim walked out of MTAC and, as soon as he stepped out of the room, he had a thought. Would Lawrence and his crew do something like this? If he was honest, he could see it happening, but he couldn't see them sending this message. They were focused on being anonymous, and even if they had killed Jorgenson as a favor, they wouldn't gloat about it. Gladly, Tim rejected the idea and walked down to his desk.

"What was it?" Ziva asked.

"Someone sent a message, telling me that Jorgenson's death was a gift."

Ziva's eyes widened considerably, but she said nothing. Instead, got up and walked over to him. Then, she crouched down in front of his desk.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

Tim smiled a little.

"I don't know, really. I mean...I'm... I have to be honest and I'm glad that Jorgenson is dead, but the way he died... I don't know."

"No matter what else, Jorgenson's death is not on your head. You did not kill him. You did not ask anyone to kill him. What you did was save a life, not take one. Remember that."

Ziva reached out and grabbed his hand. Her sleeve pulled up, revealing the scars on her wrist. Tim squeezed her hand and then moved his fingers to rub her wrist. Neither of them said anything for a few seconds. Then, Ziva pulled her hand back.

"Thanks, Ziva."

Ziva stood up and then walked around the desk and kissed Tim on the top of his head. He felt his face warm a little bit.

"Be careful. Zahara might get jealous," he said.

Ziva just smiled and walked back to her desk. Then, Tim suddenly remembered another time when Ziva had kissed him. When he had been in a hospital bed in Riyadh, just before having surgery on his eye. She had kissed him on the forehead, saying it was from Abby. And for a fleeting few seconds, he had been able to relax beneath the gentleness of that kiss. There was nothing romantic in it. It was kind of along the lines of the way that Daniel's Berber friend, Yedder, had kissed him, both in greeting and in farewell. He cherished his friendship with Ziva. She had been a lifeline for him during his atropine overdose as well. All through these years, he'd had friends watching out for him, but Ziva had been different.

"Ziva?"

She looked up. "Yes?"

"Thank you," he said.

She didn't ask what he meant. She just smiled.

"You are welcome."

Then, they got back to work without interruption for another hour when Gibbs and Tony finally arrived.

The elevator doors dinged opened and Tim looked up. He felt a deep relief at seeing Gibbs and Tony. He had known they were okay, but it was good just to _see_ that it was true.

"FBI took control," Tony said succinctly. "We're glad to be washing our hands of it."

"Any clue as to who it was?" Tim asked.

"None," Tony said. "The officer said that he didn't get a good look. The windows were tinted and he had a blowout and so he was more focused on making sure he didn't get in an accident."

"You see anything, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

Tim shook his head.

"No, but whoever did it apparently did it for me."

"Huh?" Tony asked. "I know you're important, Tim, but that seems like..."

"Someone sent a video to MTAC. It's a video of the shooting and a voice says that they did it as a gift for me."

Gibbs looked him in the eye and raised an eyebrow. Tim just shrugged a little. It bothered him, but what could he say?

"Huh," Tony said. "I'm not sure I'd like having that kind of gift."

"I _know_ I don't like it," Tim said. "I just wish I knew what the real motivation was. I have a hard time believing it was truly altruistic."

"Doesn't matter," Gibbs said. "What matters is that it's over for us."

"Yeah," Tim said. "But I might not have an easy time believing that."

Gibbs smiled. "You can work on it."

"Yeah," Tim said and smiled. "Ziva and I have been working on our reports."

"Oh, yeah. I always forget about those things," Tony said, as Gibbs went up the stairs, probably to report in to Jenny.

"Well, don't forget this time," Tim said. "I want to make sure that we have all the details we need since we shouldn't have been doing this in the first place."

" _Now_ , you admit it," Tony said, but not really sounding very irritated.

"I couldn't admit it before. You would have used that as an excuse," Tim said.

"Uh-huh," Tony said.

They all sat down again. It was silent for a few minutes.

"Are you okay, Tim?" Tony asked suddenly.

Tim looked up, but he was glad to see just a general concern, not the worried, guilt-ridden concern that Tony often felt.

He shrugged. "Yeah...mostly. But if whoever it was really wanted to be helping me, this is an epic failure. I would have been uncertain enough about Jorgenson being dead...without knowing that it was done for me."

" _Maybe_ it was done for you," Tony said. "No matter how important you are, I have my doubts that if it was just you, this would have happened. I think whoever it was used it as an excuse."

"It's just so surreal. Director Shepard said that they had no idea where the message came from. It's so well disguised that it seems to have no point of origin. There should be _something_ , even if it's jumping around or masked. But nothing at all?"

"Maybe it was the NSA or the CIA. It's not like they haven't been involved in some shady stuff."

"No," Ziva said, to Tim's surprise. "This was far too blatant based on what we have seen. The CIA does not have permission to operate in the U.S. They would not do it so obviously and risk exposure, and NSA is not the kind of organization that operates so publicly. How many years was their existence completely denied? I do not think it was either of them."

"Yeah, you're right. I still don't really like not knowing, but I'm glad he's dead."

"Me, too," Tim admitted. "I just wish it wasn't like this."

"What's a good way?"

"In a fire fight or an execution after being convicted. Not just gunned down."

"Yeah, that'd be better," Tony agreed. "Well, we can't control that, so..."

"So we just have to hope it is finished," Ziva said.

"I can hope for that," Tim said, although a part of him wondered if it really would be.

Could it ever truly be finished?

He doubted it.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

Over the next couple of days, things did start to calm down. There was plenty of press on the shooting, but somehow, they managed to hide the victim. Tim was actually quite impressed with how Director Norton handled it, and he did handle it himself. If anyone found it odd that the FBI was involved, he managed to distract the media very adroitly. Whatever chaos had gone on in the background, Tim was genuinely unaware of it. He had not tried to keep up with it. While he knew that Jenny had been called to various meetings, she had not told him what they were about and he had tried not to know.

The fact that someone had claimed to be doing it for him made him more than a little nervous. He'd been sleeping badly the last couple of nights, not from nightmares, but from anxiety. He'd already met with Dr. Hicks again to talk about it, but he was still struggling a little bit.

Finally, he decided he needed to do something.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs was down in his basement, planing some wood. He hadn't had as much need to keep up since Tim got married. He didn't come over as much where he had a wife to take care of him and to take care of. If Gibbs was honest, he missed having that regular companionship. It wasn't that he never saw anyone else, but no one else worked with wood like Tim did. It was funny since Tim's carpentry had started as a desperate attempt to help him recover from his psychotic break, to get him through his need to do everything absolutely perfectly.

Suddenly, he heard his door open.

"Hey, Boss."

He looked up and smiled.

"Tim."

"Mind if I start on something?"

"Does Zahara mind?"

Tim smiled as he came down the stairs.

"Nope. She's known about my carpentry since Marrakech. I told her that I needed to go and work with some wood and she understood."

"What do you want to make?"

"I'm not sure. Zahara said that it had to be something useful."

Gibbs smiled at that.

"So no boxes," Tim added, grinning. "She said I have enough boxes."

"How about a headboard?"

Tim's eyes actually widened a little bit and Gibbs caught one of the rare glimpses of the way he used to be before more than ten years at the school of hard knocks. It still gave Gibbs a pang to know that he was the one who had put Tim on the path that had removed that innocent look, but he tried to push it aside since he knew that Tim didn't want him feeling guilty.

"I don't know, Boss. A headboard? That's...way more complicated. It's...a lot bigger than anything I've made."

"You can do it."

"Will you help me?"

"Of course."

"Okay...I guess I'll try that."

"Good. Start looking at the wood you want and then, you'll need to decide on a style."

"A style? Right. Uh...where would I look for something like that?"

"Come up with it yourself. ...or see if the Internet has something. It seems to have everything else."

"Right."

"Just look at wood for now."

"Okay. I can do that."

Tim started looking at the stack of wood and Gibbs went back to planing. He figured he knew why Tim was here. Even though he admitted that he was glad Jorgenson was dead, Tim was bothered by someone claiming to have done it for him. Jenny had shown Gibbs the video and he could understand why Tim was troubled. If thinking about wood helped Tim find some equilibrium, Gibbs was all for it.

"What's this, Boss?" Tim asked and turned around with a plank in his hand.

"Cedar."

"I like it," he said. "There's quite a bit of it here. Were you saving it for something?"

"Nope."

Gibbs had forgotten he had that. What had he bought it for? He couldn't even remember now.

"Are you sure?" Tim asked.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow and Tim looked a little sheepish.

"Okay. I want to use this, then."

"Okay. Start sorting it out then."

Tim nodded and turned back to the wood. Gibbs waited to see if Tim was going to bring up what was obviously on his mind, but for the next half hour, Tim was simply sorting through the wood, pulling out cedar planks and looking at them carefully. Gibbs kept planing.

"I don't like this, Boss," Tim said finally.

"What?" Gibbs asked, not turning around.

"You already know. Everyone does. I don't like that someone claims to have killed Jorgenson for me."

"Can't change it."

"I know that."

"Can't stop it."

"I know."

Gibbs turned around.

"Then, let it go."

Tim sat down on a stool.

"It's not that simple for me, Boss," he said. "I'm trying. I really am, but I just can't... stop being bothered."

"Why not?"

"Because it's wrong! No matter how I feel about Jorgenson, he still had the right to his day in court."

"Tim, do you really think that Jorgenson was going to be put on trial?"

"I don't know," Tim said. "And I'm being honest here, Boss. I really don't know. I know that it was possible they'd just make him disappear somehow, but I had Director Norton's guarantee that I'd know where he was."

"Really?"

"Yes."

For a moment, Gibbs toyed with the idea that Jorgenson had been killed by the FBI...but then, why send the message? To confuse the issue? Maybe. He set that aside. No one knew who had done it at this point and worrying about it wouldn't help.

"I just can't look at this as a good thing...and I mean... I can't look at killing him as being a good thing. Him dead... I have to admit that I don't mind that. Just one less person I have to worry about coming after me."

"Can't have it both ways."

"Yes, I can. If he had died trying to get away or if he had died of some disease or been executed under the law, I wouldn't have lost any sleep over that."

"Are you losing sleep?"

"Yeah, I am," Tim said, honestly. "Not all of it, but some of it."

"What does Dr. Hicks say?"

"That it'll just take time to come to terms with it, but that I can if I really try."

"Are you?"

Tim looked at him and nodded.

"I don't have a choice but to try. It's not just me now, Boss. I can't lay that burden on Zahara. I know that she could and would bear it if she had to, but I can't just ignore that I have someone else who is always in my life, and I love her too much to make her suffer for what my life can be like. She's already sacrificed a lot for me. I don't need to add to it."

Gibbs set down the planer and walked over to Tim. He put his hands on Tim's shoulders.

"No matter why Jorgenson was killed, it is not your fault, Tim. Jorgenson brought this on himself as sure as if he _had_ been executed by the law. This would not have happened if he hadn't chosen what he did. Nothing about this is your fault, and you need to accept that none of it is your fault. Not one thing. None of it. You couldn't control Jorgenson and you can't control whoever decided to kill him. You need to let it go."

It was to Tim's credit that he didn't ask why Gibbs was being so intense about it. They both knew what Tim's life could be like if he let himself fall into guilt again. They both knew how far he had fallen in the past.

"I'm working on it," Tim said again.

Gibbs nodded and let Tim go. He walked back to his plank and started planing again.

"How's Carew?" he asked after another few silent minutes.

"I called this evening before I came here. Tamara told me that she was going to transfer him back up here tomorrow. He's doing better, but he still seems a little out of it, she said. Sometimes, he knows where he is and what's going on, but he still has moments when he starts talking about a farm and getting somewhere there."

"He going to make it?" Gibbs glanced back at Tim and he was studiously staring at the cedar he'd chosen.

"The doctors seem to think so," Tim said. "How long it will take is anyone's guess, I think."

Gibbs nodded without replying. He knew that Tim would be glad to see Carew recover, as much it galled him to know that Tim had completely moved on from hating Carew while the rest of the team was still upset by everything he'd done.

After another twenty minutes, Tim took a breath and turned around.

"I'll see if I can think of something manageable," he said. "Thanks, Boss."

Gibbs just nodded again and watched as Tim went home to be with his wife. Was there a little bit of envy that Tim had managed to find a version of a normal life? Maybe a little bit. As far as he had fallen, Tim had created a home and a family out of the ashes of his former life. That was good.

Once he heard Tim leave the house, Gibbs walked over to the cedar. It would be beautiful, no matter what Tim did with it. Some of it was a little rough still, though. Maybe it could use some extra planing.

Nodding to himself, Gibbs set his own wood aside, carried the cedar over and began to smooth out each plank so that it was ready for Tim to use the next time he came.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

He was almost back to the beginning. The steps were very difficult, almost as if he was slogging through deep mud. Maybe it had been raining.

Yes, it had been raining. A deluge. That was why it was so hard to get back.

"I'm trying to get back," he whispered, still with his eyes closed. "I'm trying to get back."

"Get back where, Dad?"

There was one of the voices he knew, although this one didn't help him much. Tamara was better.

"Dad, Mom will be back, soon. She just needed a break."

"I'm trying to get back."

"I don't understand, Dad. If you're trying to make my life even more difficult than you usually do, then, you're really succeeding."

"I don't think he's trying to be difficult, sweetie. I think he's doing what he says. He's trying to get back...here."

"He _is_ here."

"Not in his mind. I don't know where he is, but he's not here and he's trying to get back here. I'm glad."

The voice he wanted to hear more than anything else, and then the hand that anchored him. In fact, the mud didn't seem so deep. He could make it, but he was so tired. He wasn't sure he could take another step.

"Mayday," he whispered. "Someone save me."

"I'm right here, Levi. I just need you to get back to me. I'm right here, waiting for you."

He could hear her. She was so close. He tried and tried to slog through the mud. It was so hard and he was so tired by the effort.

He kept going. She was right there.

...and then, Levi opened his eyes and was moderately surprised to see that he was in a hospital bed. He remembered waking previously, but at the same time, he didn't feel like he'd really taken in anything before.

"Levi," Tamara said.

"Tamara," he said, feeling tired. No, he was more than tired. He was exhausted, but he'd managed to leave the farm. It had never been that hard before...but then, he'd never really _wanted_ to be there before.

"Yes," she said, smiling. "I'm here."

"And you're not dead," he said in a weak voice.

"No, I'm not. I'm alive."

He reached up and touched her cheek for a moment before getting tired out by that effort. His hand fell back to the bed and his eyes closed.

"Good," he whispered. "I need you."

"I'm here."

"Good," Levi said again.

And fell asleep.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tamara smiled as Levi's eyes closed yet again and he relaxed back into sleep. Somehow, she knew that this was better. It was hard to say exactly why, but he was better than he had been only a few hours before. She kept hold of his hand and then she rubbed his head with her other hand, moderately surprised to realize that Levi was not completely bald like she had thought. He was balding and would likely have a few tufts of hair growing if he didn't recover enough to care soon. How had she never known that? It was strange to think of Levi as balding instead of bald. Why, she wasn't sure, but it was strange.

"How long is he going to be like this, Mom?"

Tamara looked across the bed to Bri and smiled again. This had been extremely disconcerting for her daughter. Bri hadn't ever seen her father in such a condition. Very likely, no one had before.

"He made it," Tamara said. "He made it back."

"Back? From where?"

"I don't know, but when he looked at me, it was like he was really seeing me for the first time. He's back and I think it's going to be getting better from now on."

Bri looked down at Levi again and nodded uncertainly.

"You don't like this, do you," Tamara said.

"Do you?" Bri asked, a little belligerently.

"No, I don't, but not for the same reason you don't. It's hard for you to keep pretending you hate him when he's like this."

Bri sighed and stood up. She walked over to the window in order to avoid her mother's gaze.

"You don't know how to handle your father being not in control. You don't know what to do when he's not putting on that calm mask that keeps everyone from knowing what he's feeling. You know now and it bothers you, even though it's what you wanted for so much of your life."

Bri turned around.

"This is not what I wanted," she said angrily, pointing to her father.

"Not in the details, but in the essentials it is," Tamara said, not rising to Bri's anger. "Brianna, you wanted your father to show what he felt. You wanted to know what he was thinking because he never let anyone know. And you do. You know exactly why he's like this and it's not just because of whatever they did to him. It's because he thought he'd lost me. It's because he thought his family was gone, and that was the only thing he couldn't bear to lose. So now, you have direct evidence of what you always wanted to have, but you don't know to deal with it now that you have it."

Bri didn't respond. She just turned back to the window. Tamara found it interesting that she had refused to leave, even though she clearly was uncomfortable with being there, even though her feelings about Levi were ambivalent at best.

"You've always been more of a doer than a thinker, Bri. You have your flaws, but you've always been about action, not about thinking. You are very smart and you know how to think, but you only use that in order to figure out what you're going to do. You know that you can't just leave things the way they are now that you got what you wanted. You just don't know what to do and it's making you angry. You prefer anger to regret. It seems like you've done that with everything, not just with your father. Even that Agent McGee."

Bri spun back around again.

"What do you know about him? Why?"

"Why? Because I asked him to tell me. He didn't want to, but I insisted. I know the very basics of what you and Quinn did to him. I know the very basics of what he did for you...and for your father. And I know that you've never been willing to admit that what you did to him was wrong."

"It was orders."

"That's a copout and you know it," Tamara said, sternly. "I'm not going to force you to relate everything that happened in the past, but you _know_ the difference between right and wrong, and even if what you did was justifiable in some way, you still know that Agent McGee was not deserving of what you did, that he suffered at your hands. But just like you don't want to admit that your father has changed, you don't want to admit that you did something wrong. You want to keep things as you see them to be with no input from anyone else. And, Bri, no one is perfect. Not you, not me, not your father. No one. You can't expect it of anyone, but you also can't ascribe it to yourself. You weren't this hard and cold when you were younger."

"I wasn't in the CIA when I was younger. It changes people."

"It's more than that. I know, more than most, how the CIA can change people," Tamara said, looking down at Levi. "But you changed for more than one reason. You changed so you could be more like your father, but you did it by being cold, not by a mask. You didn't hide anything. You just changed the emotion to coldness. I'm asking you to let yourself warm up, to become the wonderfully intelligent and warm woman I know is still inside you. Let yourself believe in humanity again, Bri. Let yourself believe in your father again."

Bri turned away, but this time, it was to walk to the door.

"I'm going to take a break. I'll be back later."

"I'll be here."

"I know."

Then, she left.

Tamara sighed, but then, she smiled down at Levi who was still sleeping.

"It's going to happen, Levi. This family is going to come back together. Somehow, I know it will."


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

"Do you really think that there is anything to know?" Ziva asked.

"Come on, Ziva. You _know_ there is," Tony said. "Carew was laying there on the floor and he asked if Tim knew he was missing because of their chats. What does he mean their _chats_?"

"He was not in his right mind," Ziva said.

"Tim didn't say anything. He just told him about Tamara."

"That makes sense, you know," Ziva said. "That was the most important thing, not whatever Carew said in his dazed state."

"No, it doesn't," Tony insisted. "There's something going on."

"Perhaps it is not our business."

"No, it is because we care about Tim."

"That does not mean we have the right to know everything in his life."

"It's not everything. It's one thing. Carew," Tony said. "You want to know, too. You just don't want to be the one asking him because you know that he won't want to talk about it."

"He will not want to talk to _us_ about it."

"Who else?"

"Anyone but us. We have already shown him how we feel about Carew. He has known for years how we feel. He already tries not to talk about these things with us. I just do not think it will help."

Then, they saw Tim come out of the main doors. He saw them and changed his trajectory.

"Hey, guys. What's up?"

Tony looked at Ziva and she just shrugged. Tony knew that she wanted to know, but he could also see that she wasn't going to be the one to ask.

Well, he'd stuck his foot in his mouth more than once before. He could do it again.

"We had a question for you."

Tim's reaction to that statement was very strange. It was as if he knew exactly what Tony was going to ask and was simply resigned to it.

"What is it?" Tim asked.

"What did Carew mean when he asked if you had missed chatting with him?"

There was a slight smile.

"It's not a complex question, Tony," Tim said. "I would have thought it was quite obvious what he meant."

"Since when do you _chat_ with Carew, Tim?"

"Since when do I have to ask _you_ for permission to talk to someone, Tony?" Tim asked, with an edge in his voice.

"It is not about asking for permission," Ziva said, finally sticking her oar into the conversation. Tony was glad of it.

"Then, what's the issue?" Tim asked. "If I've chosen to talk to Levi, that's not really your business."

"So you have been?" Tony asked.

"And what if I have?" Tim asked.

"Then, I want to know _why_ you're seeking out his company after everything he's done to you."

"I take it you don't think I should?" Tim asked, the edge getting sharper.

"No, of course, I don't," Tony said. "You know how I feel about him."

Tim actually laughed, although it was a little incredulous.

"And you know that I don't feel the same way."

"Why?" Tony asked. "Because it doesn't make any sense."

"You know what, Tony? I really appreciate everything you all have done for me, not just in the last few weeks, but in the last few years."

"Huh?" Tony asked. That was not what he'd expected to have Tim say, but Tim wasn't done yet.

"I really do appreciate it. I would have been in a bad situation without you." And then, Tim's voice was full of anything but gratitude. In fact, he sounded more than a little angry. "... _but_ you do _not_ have the right to dictate what I do with my time. I don't let anyone control my life except me, not even you. No one gets to control my life."

Then, suddenly, Tim turned and walked away, leaving Tony and Ziva a little stunned by the sudden change.

"Well, that...was not what I expected to happen," Tony said.

"I did not, either." She watched Tim walking away toward his car. "We cannot leave it like this, Tony. I do not want this day to end with Tim mad at us."

"Yeah. You're right. Let's catch up."

They both jogged after Tim and caught up right as he was getting to his car.

"Tim, hold up," Tony said.

"Please, wait," Ziva said. "Do not leave like this."

Tim stopped and didn't turn around for a few seconds. Then, they could see him take a breath and he turned around.

"Why do you think I never told you about it before? I knew how you'd all react, and I didn't want to have to justify myself to anyone. I know what I'm doing. I know why I'm doing it, and I don't need my friends acting like I'm betraying them... because it has absolutely nothing to do with you. Nothing."

"We're your friends, Tim," Tony said. "That's what it has to do with us."

"Friends don't get to make decisions for me," Tim said.

"That's not what I was trying to do," Tony said.

Tim scoffed a little.

"Honestly. I really do want to understand because I don't. Not at all."

"That's because you don't _really_ want to. You want me to cater to what _you_ think. It's not about understanding me because I've tried to explain and you've ignored it before. Even if you mean well, and I know you do, it's about controlling what I do."

"It isn't!" Tony said.

"We are not trying to control you, Tim," Ziva said. "We are simply curious...and a little concerned."

Tim sighed heavily and looked at them both. Then, while still looking at them, he pulled out his phone and made a call.

"Hey, Zahara. I'm going to be a little late coming home. If you don't want to wait for dinner..." Then, he smiled. "Okay. I'll call you when I'm on my way. Love you. Bye."

He hung up and put his phone away, never looking away from them.

"I'll give you twenty minutes, but I want to be home with my wife tonight."

"That does not give us time to go anywhere, but will you at least come back to the park and sit?" Ziva asked.

"Okay."

They walked back to Willard Park and sat down on a couple of benches. To Tony's surprise, Tim started talking.

"I've been talking to Levi off and on for the last couple of years. It started right before I got married."

Tony almost asked a question right then, but Ziva nudged him. Tim was actually talking and they needed to let him. Tony nodded and tried to listen.

"He was discouraged about whether or not he could change enough to make life anything but miserable for Tamara. He was tired and a little hopeless about how hard it was. I encouraged him to keep trying. ...and after that, every so often, he'd show up by my car after I finished running. We'd talk for a few minutes and then I'd go home. In the last six months, it was becoming a regular occurrence, especially on Sundays when I don't have any calls on my time. They're mostly pep talks. He asks me questions and I try to answer them. I don't seek him out, but he seeks me out and I let him. I know that if I told him to stop, he would. Levi is really trying, but it's hard to break the habits of thirty years. Sometimes, I've asked him questions about his life. Sometimes, he's answered me. Sometimes, he hasn't. I wouldn't call us friends, but he needs my help, and I'm giving it to him completely voluntarily. This is something I _want_ to do and so I will not listen to you tell me that I shouldn't do it or that I should do that or that he doesn't deserve it. I don't care what you think about it. And if the next thing you do is try to attack Levi or say that I'm making a mistake, I'm out of here and I won't come back to the park this time."

There was that steel in Tim's voice that they didn't hear very often but, when it showed up, Tony knew that Tim meant what he was saying and he really would walk away from them if he got upset again.

"Are you sure that this is something you want?" Ziva asked. "Carew has been able to manipulate many people in the past."

"Yes, but not like this," Tim said. "This isn't manipulation."

"And this is really what you want," Tony said.

"Yes. If you ask me again, I may have to Gibbs slap you," Tim said, but he did smile a little. "I knew that you heard what he said and I knew that eventually you'd think to ask about it, but I'd hoped what I knew was wrong because I didn't want to have this conversation."

"Well, we had it, and now I promise not to ask about it again," Tony said. "Cross my heart, hope to die."

"Yeah, right," Tim said, but he smiled again and stood up. "If only I could believe you."

"I don't want to be on the receiving end of another McGee lecture, so I'll hold my tongue."

"Uh-huh," Tim said, dubiously.

Tony and Ziva both stood up. Ziva stepped closer to Tim and squeezed his arm.

"We only ask because we care."

"I know," Tim said. "I'm going home. Please, don't do this again tomorrow."

Tony mimed crossing his heart. Tim just rolled his eyes and then headed for his car, pulling out his phone as he left.

"Well? Was that worth it?" Ziva asked. "You saw how angry he was."

"Yeah, I saw, but yes, it was. I really do want to understand."

"Tim is right. We do not have the right to dictate who he spends time with, even if it is with Carew."

"I just don't like it," Tony said.

"You do not have to," Ziva said. "Tim does and apparently, he, at least, does not mind it because he has allowed it to go on."

"I know."

"Let it go, Tony," Ziva said. "That is the only way to accept it. Just let it go. Until you are ready to see Carew as anything other than a villain, you will not be able to talk to Tim about him."

Tony just nodded and then, he and Ziva went their separate ways. Hopefully, there wouldn't be too much tension in the morning. If there was, Tony knew it was his own fault.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim got in his car and sat for a few minutes. He had known this would happen and he had known what the reaction would be. He just wished that it wasn't that way. He didn't like the conflict with his friends. They'd been there for him through so much that he hated to be angry at them, but it was so frustrating that Tony refused to listen to him, really listen. Gibbs would listen, at least. He didn't agree, but he didn't argue about it.

But he was starting to calm down and that meant he could go home. He pulled out his phone one more time. This time, he didn't call home.

" _This is Daniel Worthing. Leave a message."_

"Hey, Daniel. I know you're headed back soon. I'd like to have you over for dinner one more time before you go. Give me a call back if you can come tonight."

Then, he called Zahara once more.

"Zahara, I called Daniel and invited him to dinner, but he didn't answer. If he calls last minute, would you be okay with him coming?"

" _Of course. He will be going back to Morocco soon?"_

"Yeah. I think so."

" _Yes. There will be plenty of food."_

"Great. I'll be home soon. I'm just leaving."

" _You still sound upset."_

"I am, but I'm getting over it."

" _Good. I don't want you to be mad at your friends."_

"That makes two of us. I'll see you soon."

" _Yes. I love you."_

"I love you. Bye."

Tim hung up and then started home. As he drove, his mind went back to his conversation with Tony and Ziva. Mostly Tony. Ziva had stayed strangely in the background, although she was clearly thinking more how Tony was.

If only Levi hadn't said anything. Of course, he'd hardly been thinking clearly and if Tim had been willing to lie, he could have pretended that it had simply been Levi being delirious.

But he didn't want to lie.

He was halfway home when his phone rang. He pulled off to the side and answered.

"Hello?"

" _Hey, Tim. It's Daniel."_

"Are you still in the States?"

" _Yeah. I fly out tomorrow, actually."_

"So do you want to come for dinner? Zahara says that there'll be plenty."

" _I'd like that. Are you home?"_

"Just about. I'll be there in ten minutes, tops."

" _Okay. I'll be over in about twenty."_

"Great. Bye."

" _Bye."_

Tim hung up and carefully pulled back into traffic. Daniel had seemed a little more reserved than usual. Maybe it was because of what Tim had said about not wanting him to be there when they took Logan down. But he'd said he wanted to come, so he couldn't be _too_ mad.

He got home and was glad of it. It had been a stressful end to the day and he really did want to be with Zahara tonight. But he wanted to see Daniel again, too. So he would put off the alone time with his wife.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to smell pizza. He had expected another Moroccan meal.

"Do I smell pizza?" he asked.

Zahara came out of the bedroom and smiled.

"Yes. I made the dough this morning."

"Wow. Homemade, even? I'm impressed." Zahara made most of the things they ate, but she had admitted that she didn't like to bake as much, and most of the time, anything bread-related was purchased rather than made.

She grinned and walked over to hug and kiss him.

"I wanted to try something new. Is Daniel coming?"

"Yeah. He called me while I was coming home. He should be here soon."

"I think it will be good for Daniel, too. He is going back to Morocco and he will not have as much of these American foods."

"I'm okay with that, too."

"I knew you would be."

Tim grinned and went back to change. Then, he came back to the kitchen and tried to help but then sat at the counter while Zahara finished making the pizza and then put it in the oven to bake.

"Will you still be mad at Tony and Ziva tomorrow?"

"No," Tim said, sighing a little. "I know _why_ they feel the way they do. It just bothers me that they won't at least _try_ to see it my way."

Zahara walked around the counter and sat down beside him.

"Perhaps they have, and it is simply that they failed."

Tim laughed. "That doesn't really make me feel any better."

Zahara smiled. "The truth doesn't always make us feel better. You forgave me for how I was thinking."

Tim smiled more gently and took her hand. "That's because I love you."

"Yes, and because you knew that I loved you, too. It was just my fear keeping us apart. You know they care."

"Yeah."

"Then, you should not even talk about it again unless they think it is necessary. What is that saying? Let the chips fall where they may."

"Where did you learn _that_ one?"

"At the dance studio. When Michelle was trying to decide whether or not to open another class because she was not sure whether or not there would be enough interest, she said that she would just do it and let the chips fall where they may."

Then, there was a buzz signaling someone at the door. Tim walked over.

" _It's Daniel."_

"Okay. Come on up," Tim said and buzzed him in.

"The pizza is not quite done," Zahara said. "But you can set the table."

"All right."

Tim got out the dishes and set the stack on the table and then went to answer the door when Daniel knocked. He was a little dismayed when he saw Daniel.

"Daniel, are you okay?" Tim asked.

Daniel had dark circles under his eyes and even beyond that, he looked tired. Still, he smiled a little as he walked into the apartment.

"I haven't been sleeping too well the last few nights," Daniel said. "Actually, I'm not going back to Morocco just yet. I was going to lie to you and pretend I was still going back like I had planned, but it's not worth it."

"What's going on?"

"Just what you'd probably expect. What _I_ should have expected," Daniel said. "I wasn't ready to look Logan in the eye again and the irrational part of me doesn't believe he's dead. I've been dreaming about him, almost nonstop."

"I'm sorry, Daniel."

Daniel looked at Tim and shook his head.

"No, Tim. Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. There was no way you could have known, and I just wasn't willing to think about it in enough detail to realize that I couldn't deal with it. I think, long-term, it will be better for me to have seen him dead, but short-term...well, this isn't really much of a picnic. The last time I reported to my supervisor, he must have said something because Director Morgan called me in and told me that I was taking some extra time off and that I was going to talk to someone while I was here, just to give me a head start."

"Good. I'm glad, but I'm still sorry that you're dealing with it. I know how it feels."

"Yeah, I'm sure you do, but for tonight, I just want to set all that to the side and have some time with friends. Is that all right with you?"

"Absolutely. Actually, would you like to stay the night? We have a spare room. Then, you wouldn't have to be alone."

Daniel looked tempted, but he shook his head.

"No. It's fine."

Tim figured he could try again later, but let it drop for the time being. He looked over to Zahara who simply smiled and stepped into her role as hostess. Tim finished setting the table while she told Daniel about what she had made. The conversation stayed light and simple all through dinner and Daniel seemed to relax a bit. Then, as the evening was winding down, Zahara seemed to read Tim's mind.

"Daniel, are you sure you want to go and stay in a hotel room all alone when you could be here in company for a night? If you are worried, having company would help you feel more safe."

"And we're not even saying stay here permanently," Tim added. "But one night wouldn't be so bad...and you wouldn't have to completely give up your macho image."

Daniel laughed at that.

"It does sound nice to have that, but I might still have nightmares."

"So? I have them, too," Tim said. "I wish I didn't, but I know what it's like."

"Okay. You've convinced me. I'll stay tonight and get going first thing in the morning."

"Good. Tim, you clean up dinner and I will make sure the room is ready."

Tim nodded and started picking up the plates. Daniel helped him.

"I've been thinking about what you said," Daniel said.

"When?" Tim asked.

"About how you'd never have asked me to be involved if you had known it was personal."

"Oh."

"And I get where you're coming from, Tim," Daniel said. "When things are personal, it hits different notes and the end results are more ambiguous. Did I kill him because I was supposed to or because I argued for it? At least, in this case, I killed him because he was about to kill you so that made it easier. But there is a part of me that wishes I'd never had to see him again."

"That's how I feel about Jorgenson being dead," Tim admitted.

"I heard about that."

"Did you hear that someone sent a message to NCIS, claiming that it was done for me?"

"No. Really? Who was it?"

"No one knows," Tim said. "But the guy sent a video of Jorgenson being killed, as if there'd been a camera attached to the gun. And a voice said that it was done for me."

"Yikes."

"Yeah. I don't care that he's dead, but I don't like that someone is claiming to have done it for me. I don't like that."

"I don't blame you. It makes everything more...awkward."

Tim smiled a little at the word. "Yeah. Awkward."

"How are you dealing with it?"

"Okay, at this point. I had some bad days...or rather, mostly bad nights."

"Right. I get it."

"I know."

"Well, you know it's not your fault, right?"

"Yeah, I do. Out front."

"Yeah."

Zahara came out of the spare room.

"Everything is ready when you wish to go to bed, Daniel," she said.

"Great. Thanks a lot, Zahara."

"It was no trouble. Tim and I usually watch a movie in the evenings. Tony is introducing me to American entertainment. Would you like to join us?"

"As long as it's nothing serious."

"I still have many to watch. Some are serious. Some are not. We can choose one that is not."

"Sounds great."

Zahara picked an old comedic Western called _Support Your Local Sheriff_ , and they all sat down to watch it, although it was questionable that Daniel saw much of it at all. Ten minutes into the movie, his eyes were almost closed. Tim and Zahara said nothing. Instead, they let him relax into sleep with the movie playing while they watched the silly show.

While they had planned for Daniel to sleep in the spare room, when the movie was over and Daniel was sound asleep, instead, Tim maneuvered him so that he was lying on the couch and Zahara grabbed a blanket for him. They left a light on in main room so that he could see where he was if he woke in the night, and then, the two of them went to bed.

They lay together and Zahara snuggled close to Tim.

"I love you, Tim."

"I love you."

"I am glad that you are not alone."

Tim hugged her tightly.

"So am I."

They fell asleep.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

Daniel ended up staying for two days. He was gone all day, but he'd come back in the evenings and stay the night. He even said that he pretty much slept all the way through the night which helped him overall.

Tim tried not to be annoyed by Tony and Ziva's well-meaning but still irritating interference and after a few days, they eased back into their regular routines, although they were all very careful _not_ to mention Levi at all. No one asked how he was doing. No one asked anything at all, and if Tim knew, he said nothing, either.

It wasn't ideal but it was the way things stayed for a while.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Okay, Mr. Carew, you are being released today as you requested, but I want you to promise me that you'll still take it easy. Your heart took quite a beating and you're not as young as you used to be. It's going to take time for it to heal."

"I understand," Levi said.

"But will you promise to take it easy?"

"Yes, he will," Tamara said. "Even if he won't, I'll promise that he will."

The doctor smiled.

"Good. I'll expect you to start your physical therapy within the next week and if you don't, I'll call. I understand that you already have a psychiatrist?"

"Yes," Levi said.

"Good."

"His name is Dr. Woodrow Hicks," Tamara said when Levi said nothing else. "I've already spoken to him."

"I've heard of him. All right. I know I've asked this before, but are you sure that you want to leave so soon?"

"Yes," Levi said.

"All right. Good luck."

For almost the first time, Levi said more than two words at a time.

"Luck has nothing to do with it."

The doctor smiled. "I know."

Finally, Levi got off the bed and sat down in the wheelchair. Bri pushed the chair while Tamara walked along beside it, always in Levi's view. She had noticed how much he needed to see her, as if he still wasn't _really_ sure she was actually alive. It would get tiring pretty quick, but if it helped him to be in a familiar environment at home, maybe it would help him start to believe it and communicate better.

They got home quite quickly. Levi said nothing. He walked into the house, almost hesitantly. His saying nothing was not a surprise. It was a kind of protection not to let out what he was thinking, but the way he was _acting_ was very different. He wasn't sure. It was clear that he wasn't sure of what he was doing.

"Levi? How are you feeling?" Tamara asked.

Levi turned back to her.

"I'm not sure. I'm tired," he said.

He walked to the couch and sat down, genuinely looking tired out by the short walk inside.

"You can sleep if you need to, Levi."

"Okay."

He lay down on the couch and closed his eyes. His breathing evened out almost instantly. Tamara walked over and gently put a blanket over him. Then, she rubbed her hand over the fuzz growing out on his head. She smiled a little, thinking of what his reaction would be when she asked about the fact that he'd hidden this of all things. Not that he'd lied about it, but he'd concealed the fact that he was going bald by bypassing the balding part.

"Is he all right, Mom?" Bri asked.

"Yes. He's fine or he _will_ be. Would you mind making something for dinner? Just soup or something simple like that. We need to keep everything simple until your father is ready for more."

"Right. I can do that."

Another smile and Tamara turned around. Bri was standing there, looking at her father, and she was bothered by his continued lethargy and how disconnected he still seemed. Tamara didn't like it, either, but she didn't have the built up idea of what Levi was like still. That image had been destroyed by the years they'd been back together. But Bri had avoided her father as much as possible and so the changes were much more startling.

"I know you can."

Bri went into the kitchen but then paused and looked back. "What are you going to do?"

"Call Dr. Hicks and ask if he would be willing to make house calls for a little while. Just until your father is more recovered."

"When will that be?"

"I don't know," Tamara said. "In all the years that he was in the CIA, he never let me know how bad it got for him and now, I don't know what it will take, but he'll be okay eventually and I want to make it as easy as possible."

She went into the study to find the phone number for Dr. Hicks.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Levi opened his eyes, took a moment, to decide where he was and then sat up on the couch. Tamara wasn't right there and he tried not to panic simply because the logical part of him knew that she was simply somewhere else in the house but the illogical part of him, which quite frankly, had a lot more control at the moment, was insisting that she didn't exist if she wasn't right there.

"Levi, you're awake."

He turned and instantly relaxed, seeing Tamara there. She smiled at him.

"Your doctor said that you had to be sure to eat three meals a day and no skipping unless you were genuinely feeling ill. So dinner is ready if you're ready to get up."

Levi thought about it. He was still tired, but food sounded good. They'd started him eating again while he was in the hospital and the idea of eating food was a good thing.

He pushed himself to his feet, feeling tired and shaky, but he was up. Then, he walked over to Tamara, she took his arm and led him to the table. Bri was there, and he knew she was, but it was Tamara that he had to see.

He sat down and ate what was in front of him. He didn't really notice the taste of it. He just ate it and was glad for the food that he'd been denied for however long he'd been in that house. It probably wasn't _too_ long. He didn't think it had been more than a month when he thought back, but it had been long enough.

"How long was I...gone?" he asked into the mostly silent room.

"Almost three weeks, Levi," Tamara said.

"Probably couldn't have survived much longer, then."

"No, probably not. I'm glad I didn't have to find out."

Levi found that he could smile at that. And he did.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Tamara said. Then, she smiled, too. "If I was tired of you, Levi, I would find a much easier way to get rid of you."

Levi actually managed to laugh a little.

"I don't doubt that," he said.

He finished eating, but he was exhausted by the effort of feeding himself.

"I'm tired," he said again.

"All right. Let's get you into bed, then," Tamara said. "No sense in sleeping on the couch when your bed is right down the hall."

"Okay."

Levi pushed himself to his feet again, but he felt even more shaky than he had before and he wasn't sure he'd be able to make it that far.

Then, there was an arm around his waist and a hand lifting his arm up. He looked over and saw his daughter supporting him. ...about the _last_ thing he would have expected to see.

"Let's go, Dad," she said. It was a bit brusque, but still, it wasn't combative.

"Okay," he said again.

He walked as best he could, but he was leaning on Bri far too much. He tried to take his weight off her shoulders, not wanting his daughter to have to bear his weight, but he couldn't.

They made it to the bedroom and Bri lowered him to the bed. He sat there, wondering if he could lift his legs up or if they'd be too heavy. They really felt heavy at the moment.

"Thank you, Bri," he said softly, his eyes closed as he breathed heavily.

There was a long, heavy pause.

"You're welcome, Dad."

Then, gentle, strong hands helped him get his shoes off and then get under the covers.

"Sleep, Levi. This is going to work out. You're getting better."

He nodded and fell asleep.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Timothy?"

Tim paused as he was leaving, surprised to have Ducky calling after him.

"What is it, Ducky? I don't want to be rude, but Daniel is flying back to Morocco and I promised I'd take him to the airport. I don't want to make him late."

Ducky smiled.

"Then, we can talk and walk at the same time. This shouldn't take very long."

"Okay."

Tim waved at Tony and Ziva as he left but said nothing to them.

"There seems to be a bit of tension with your teammates."

"Yeah, a little. At least, it's only a little on my side. They're much more tense than I am."

"That's because they're worried about you."

"Why?" Tim asked, feeling irritated again. "Because I don't want to see a man tortured until he dies?"

Ducky's eyes widened in surprise.

"No, Timothy."

"Sorry, Ducky. That was out of line."

"So Levi Carew is the source of the tension?"

"Yeah. Not _him_ , but..." Tim glanced at Ducky, unsure of telling someone else about it.

"But what?"

"...but that I've been talking to him pretty regularly since my wedding and he said something about that when we found him. They heard and asked me about it."

"You have? You've always claimed not to really like him."

"I don't...but I've come to...accept him and it's possible that I could like the man he wants to become. And if he needs help getting to that, then, I'm willing to help him. _Why_ can't they see that?"

"Because they still look on Levi Carew as the author of all your problems."

"But he wasn't, Ducky. And I'm not excusing what he _did_ do. But he also made sure I got help when I needed it. He also only used me when he absolutely needed to. He also helped me far beyond any favor. ...and Ducky, he _knows_ he can't really make amends, but he feels he has to try anyway. That's the kind of person he is. Honest in everything, even when it comes to himself and what he deserves. I'm not asking them to sing his praises. I'm not even asking them to stop hating him. I just wish they'd stop trying to force _me_ to feel the way they do."

Ducky put a calming hand on Tim's shoulder.

"I don't think it's truly a matter of forcing you to feel other than you do. Timothy, I feel that much of this is fear on their part, fear that something else will go wrong and that the more contact you have with the CIA _or_ anyone connected with it will only lead you to more pain."

Tim took a breath and let it out quickly. "I know. But it's not the way things are. I want them to let it go. That would help me more than anything."

"Perhaps you should tell them that."

Tim smiled a little.

"Maybe I should. ...but not tonight."

Ducky stood back.

"By all means, get your friend to the airport on time. I hope that all is well with him."

"He's doing pretty well. Still having some problems, but it's better."

"That's good. ...and Levi Carew?"

"He's home. I don't know more than that."

Ducky just nodded and Tim got in his car and headed home.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tamara woke up and was surprised that the space beside her was empty. Levi had been sleeping more than he'd been awake in the days since he'd come home and he rarely left her alone.

Quickly, she got up and walked out of the bedroom. Bri's door was closed and she doubted that Levi would go in there. He had barely acknowledged Bri's presence. She walked out into the main room and there was Levi. He was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands.

"Levi? What's wrong? It's four in the morning. What are you doing up?"

"It's 4:03 a.m.," Levi whispered, not moving. "I've been counting the minutes, trying to see how long I can stand not to see you. How long I can keep myself myself from panicking because you're not right there."

Tamara looked at the clock. He was exactly right.

"Why?" she asked. "I don't think that Dr. Hicks has told you to do that, has he?"

"No."

"Then, why, Levi?"

"Because I don't want to drive you away by needing to have you close to me, needing you too much. I still feel like... I can't breathe when you're not right next to me. I still feel like you're dead if I can't see you. You're the only thing I can hold onto. I'm not strong enough to lose you again. If I lost you now..."

Tamara was both touched by the sentiment and saddened by Levi's pitiful admission of weakness. There were glimmers of his old control but he didn't have the strength to suppress what he felt and he was still recovering, both physically and mentally, and he couldn't think quickly enough to talk around things. So he was settling for being brutally honest, probably in the hopes that it would keep people from asking him the awkward questions.

She walked over to the couch and sat down beside him. She pulled his hands down from his head and then forced him to look at her, even thought the only light was the dim light from the hallway.

"I'm here, Levi, and you can hold onto me as long as you need to. I don't mind. You spent thirty years not needing me around. I can handle a few weeks, even a few months."

"I always needed you. I just could hide it before," he said softly. Hesitantly, he lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. "If you only knew how much I always wished you were there. I wrote letters asking you to come back."

"I never got them," Tamara said.

"I never sent them. I couldn't change what I was doing and so nothing at home could change, either. Asking for another chance would be living a lie. And I couldn't lie."

Tamara covered his hand with hers for a moment. Then, she got up and walked back into the bedroom. She got the photograph she had found in the remains of their cabin. She walked back to the main room and sat down beside Levi again. He hadn't moved. She held out the photograph.

"I found this. After they took you. It didn't burn."

Levi took the photograph and stared at it for a long time. There was a weak laugh that escaped his lips.

"The one thing I can't change," he said, almost sounding teary. "The one thing that survived. It's all that's left."

"Levi, I'm not going to tell you to start lying. That just feels wrong."

He smiled a little.

"But you've lived so much of your life in the past. Not even just your own past, but _this_ past," Tamara said, pointing to the photograph. "I always felt that you joined the CIA because you thought you could stop the Holocaust from happening again, that you could stop other people from being the way your mother was."

"Someone had to fight," he whispered, still staring at the picture.

"Yes and many do. I loved your mother. She was a wonderful woman, but the way she was when I met her... She made the Holocaust far too real for you. For most of us, it's a terrible thing, and we don't want it to happen again, but for you... It was always a real possibility, wasn't it."

Levi nodded. The silence lingered as he stared at the picture that had defined so much of his life.

"I'm afraid to let it go," he said, rubbing a finger over the photo of his father's emaciated body. "I don't want to forget."

"Levi, you never will. How could you when it touches your life so deeply? You won't forget, but if you want more out of life than you've had, you need to let _some_ of that go."

It was silent for a long while. Then, Tamara reached out and forced him to look at her again. She smiled.

"And don't think that you're not good enough because the mighty Levi Carew can't get put back together in a moment. Give yourself time. You don't have to fight now, Levi. All you have to do is get better. All you have to do is recover, and I don't mind if you need me."

He put out his hand. Tamara took it quickly and felt him squeeze her hand tightly.

"I wish we could go back to when things were easier."

"We can't. We can only look forward and there good things in the future, Levi. You just have to let them come. And for now?"

He looked at her.

"For now, come back to bed. Let your body recover. Let your soul heal. I'm not going anywhere."

She stood up and pulled him to his feet. He was still a little unsteady and he still tired out very easily, but he was on his own two feet and that was a good thing.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs let them off early. It was a rare occasion and Tony thought for sure that there was something behind it, but whether there was or not, Tony wanted to try and get rid of the last bits of lingering tension. Tim had not said anything else to them about Levi but his irritation at what they had said before was very much in Tony's mind and he knew that Ziva was thinking of it as well. It put a bit of a barrier between them and Tony didn't like that, not after everything they'd been through in the years before.

"Hey, Tim, since we're free early, get a drink with us before you head home. Zahara won't be expecting you, right?"

Tim looked at the clock, clearly deciding whether or not she would. Then, he looked back.

"Okay. We should invite Jimmy and Abby if they can come, too."

"Sure."

Ziva called Jimmy and Tony called Abby. They were both available so they all went out to a bar to get a drink. Things were pretty normal for a while. No one drank a lot. They all had to work the next day.

But then, just as Tony thought that maybe he'd imagined the tension, that maybe it was just his own fault, Jimmy opened his mouth.

"Hey, Tim, how's Carew doing?"

Ziva looked worried, but she said nothing. Tony opened his own mouth to try and awkwardly change the subject but Ziva shook her head hurriedly as if she knew exactly what he was going to try to do.

Tim glanced sidelong at them both but he looked back at Jimmy and smiled.

"I've called Tamara a few times and she said that he's getting better. It's taking a while, but things are improving."

"You haven't visited him at all?" Jimmy asked, sounding surprised. "I thought you would have."

"No, it's not the right time for that yet."

"What _is_ the right time?" Abby asked. "And how will you know if you're not talking to him?"

Tim smiled again, but this time, as he answered, he stared at Tony and Ziva.

"He'll show up on my running route," he said, daring them to protest.

Tony knew that was what Tim was doing, but he refused to say anything about it.

"What do you mean?" Abby asked, seeing the tension but not knowing the actual cause.

"Levi and I aren't really friends, Abby. But when he feels the time is right, he'll show up in the morning when I'm running and we'll talk. For now, he's probably still needing the time to recover, not so much physically but psychologically."

"I can't imagine how that must have been," Jimmy said, seemingly oblivious to Tony and Ziva's awkwardness.

"Yeah. I'll be glad to see him out of that."

And then, for no reason at all, Tony suddenly thought of what Tim had said to him out at the cabin, about how much he hated the idea of torture because he'd gone through it so much himself. In a way, seeing Levi recover would be kind of related to his own recovery, and how could Tony really take away the triumph Tim would feel at knowing Levi had recovered? He hadn't been too late. Maybe there was more to it than that, but Tony was starting to see that Tim needed to be able to celebrate and because of their suspicions, Tony and Ziva hadn't really let him.

So swallowing his pride (and his intense dislike of Levi overall), Tony took a breath.

"I'll drink to that," he said, holding out his glass.

Ziva looked at him like he'd sprouted horns and Tim was more than a little surprised, but Tony was surprised himself to see gratitude in Tim's eyes. Tim even smiled a little and raised his glass. The others followed suit whether out of shock or out of genuine agreement.

Then, Tim looked at his watch.

"I've got to get home."

"Me, too," Jimmy said.

"Ah, the married guys have get to bed early."

Tim grinned. "Better getting to bed early than alone."

"Oh, ouch. Touché, Probie," Tony said.

"I think you'll get over it."

"I'll build a bridge just to do that."

Jimmy laughed and they all stood up to leave, paying for their drinks and heading home.

Tim called for a taxi and then paused.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Tony smiled a little sheepishly and shrugged.

"Least I could do."

Tim shook his head. "No. It's the most and I get it. Thanks."

Then, he got in the taxi and left. Tony watched him drive away and sighed. But it was mostly relief that Tim had understood.

"He is right."

Tony turned and saw Ziva standing behind him.

"Yeah, he is."

"Will you let it go, now?"

"Yeah. At least out front."

Ziva smiled.

"But not in back?"

"Can't promise that."

"Tim is not asking for it."

"I know."

"See you tomorrow, Tony."

"Bye."

Tony headed for a Metro stop and went home.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

 _Tamara kept glancing over at Levi. He had been strangely tense all evening and every time she'd asked him about it, he had very stealthily changed the subject._

 _They were walking along the lake in the evening when Levi suddenly stopped and looked out over the water._

" _It's beautiful, Levi," Tamara said._

" _Yeah, it is. You know, sometimes, I wonder where I would be if it hadn't been for... my parents coming to the U.S. What would my life have been like in Europe?"_

 _He had moved into a more solemn mood which happened fairly frequently, but Tamara hadn't minded the serious conversations and she understood. He had told her about his family, as different from her own as possible._

 _She smiled and hooked her arm in his._

" _Well, I wouldn't have met you if you were in Europe. I've never been out of the U.S. in my whole life."_

 _He looked at her and smiled, his dark eyes twinkling._

" _And would that be a bad thing?"_

" _You know it would be, Levi."_

 _He turned to face her._

" _Well, then, I was wondering something."_

" _What?"_

 _Levi took a deep breath and knelt down._

" _I was wondering if you would marry me."_

 _He held up a ring box. Tamara was shocked. How had he kept this from her? How had she never realized that he was ready for this? She was so shocked that she forgot to say anything._

" _Tamara?" Levi asked after a few seconds. "Can you at least answer one way or the other?"_

 _Tamara laughed and leaned over to kiss him soundly._

" _Yes, Levi! Of course, I will! Yes, yes, yes."_

 _He kissed her back and put the ring on her finger. She looked at it giddily._

" _I love you, Levi Carew."_

" _I'll always love you, Tamara. I'll never stop," he said._

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"And now?"

There was a long, heavy pause.

"Levi, I'm not a mind reader," Dr. Hicks said. "I know this is still hard for you, but you need to _try_ to communicate. At least a little bit."

Levi sighed. As he had recovered physically, he had felt less and less willing to actually talk about everything. He knew he needed to, but a big part of him still felt like he could just ignore it and it would eventually go away.

He pulled out the photograph that had survived the destruction of the cabin.

"Everything else was destroyed," he said. "But this survived. No other photographs. Nothing of us. Just this."

"That's not a sign, Levi," Dr. Hicks said. "All it means is that it was in a place that the fire didn't get to it."

Another silence. Levi refused to make eye contact.

"Levi, you know that this is necessary. You know that you'll struggle to heal without this. Stop dragging your feet and just talk."

"I'm still so afraid and I'm not used to being afraid," he said, finally. "I'm not used to...not being able to control myself, but I can't. It's like...everything I had before is gone, and when I can't see Tamara, she's gone, too. I'm trying to get back."

"Back to what?"

"Normal."

"But what normal, Levi? The normal where you wear a mask that keeps everyone away or the normal where you were a husband with a wife and children?"

"I don't know. Just not this."

"It's going to take time, and believe it or not, it'll take longer if you keep trying to pretend it's not there."

"I'm not pretending. I'm ignoring."

"That won't work, either. It just won't. By your own admission, they broke you and they did it so completely that you're not sure they aren't still in control. Tamara told me what you've been trying to do, and I understand why you'd want to, but you can lean on her for now."

"For how long?" Finally, Levi looked up and shook his head. "I am still broken and right now, as melodramatic as it sounds, I can't live without her, without knowing that she's alive. And when I can't see her, I don't know. I was ready to die. I almost made it, but Quinn stopped me."

"What do you mean you almost made it? Made it where?" Dr. Hicks asked.

Levi looked back down at the photo. He touched his father's image. For the first time, he felt that he could talk about part of what had happened, part of himself. It was something he'd never told anyone. An escape isn't effective if people know about it.

"When I was young, I fell off a bike or tripped or something and I scraped my knee. I don't remember exactly what the injury was. It hurt." He found he could laugh a little. "To me, it was the worst pain in the world and all I wanted was for it to stop. My father told me that there was a way to escape pain, but that I'd have to practice. My mother didn't want him to teach me, but he did. He told me that, if I could build a picture in my head of a place with a destination, I could be there and not where the pain was. It wasn't enough just to think of a place. It had to be real and I had to be able to move inside that image, toward that destination. The journey would become the replacement for the pain. For him, it was a path through the forest. For me, it was a farm, with a canal and a rutted road."

"What was the destination?"

Levi looked up. "Death. That was the end of the road. I don't know if that's what it was for my father. He never told me where _he_ was going, but I knew what he was escaping."

"The Holocaust."

Levi nodded.

"Since Tamara was dead, I thought that she'd be there at the end of the road and that's what I looked for. When I reached the end, I'd be dead. I got very close, but then, I saw Quinn and he wouldn't let me keep going. Logically, I know he wasn't there, but..."

"Maybe he was in some way," Dr. Hicks said. "Are you still on the farm?"

"No. I left it," Levi said and let his head drop to the back of the couch. He stared up at the ceiling. "I'm still so tired."

"Whether it was because you were taking yourself there or just because of what they were doing to you, Levi, you did almost die. It's going to take time for you to recover. You're not young anymore. As a matter of fact, most people are considered over the hill by the time they reach your age. They're not going on missions or being tortured."

Levi smiled a little.

"I didn't feel old until now."

Dr. Hicks smiled, but he was still serious.

"That's probably the only reason you're not dead. You took good care of yourself and you were very fit. You can recover but it'll be a long process."

"I know."

Levi sat for a while in another silence. This time, Dr. Hicks didn't try to break it. He sat where he was, waiting. Levi didn't know what he was waiting for, but he was definitely waiting for something. Levi felt his mind start to wander which was fine. He was now aware enough to realize that his mind wasn't operating at its usual level but still needing enough recovery that he didn't care that it wasn't.

"Agent McGee is the one who found me," he said, finally.

"Yes. He talked to me about it both before and after."

"Why would he do it? What have I ever done for him to deserve it? He hates this world. I know he does. That's one of the reasons I knew I could use him. He wouldn't stay in that ambiguous space if he could avoid it. I wasn't creating a monster. So why would he move back there willingly, to save me? It would have been justice if they had killed me."

"Just because you've done things you regret doesn't make what was being done to you justice. As for Agent McGee? I think that's something you'll have to ask him, when you're ready."

"I'm afraid of the answer."

"I don't think you need to be," Dr. Hicks said.

"I don't need to be afraid of Tamara being dead, but I am," Levi said. "I'm still not in my right mind."

Dr. Hicks suddenly leaned forward, looking more earnest than Levi thought was necessary.

"I can hear it in your voice, Levi. Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't try to suppress all of this. Your tendency is going to be embracing the emotionless mask again because that's what you've lived with. You've struggled to let it drop, to express the emotions you feel. The mask is gone right now and you don't know how to deal with it. You can build something new, something real, but if you just run back to what you had and hated, all that will happen is that you miss out on the real chance you have to drop the mask completely."

"I still have it," Levi said. "It's still there."

"But you can't put it on. Not yet. You're trying to but you can't," Dr. Hicks said, smiling. "While I admit that this kind of shocking and painful, nearly-fatal event is not the ideal way to get you to let go, it's happened. Throw the mask away. Don't put it back on. Not even for a moment. You don't have to turn into some kind of blubbering fool, which is what I know your next question is. You're more reserved anyway, but you aren't hiding how you feel. At all. Keep it up until you learn how to control your emotions instead of suppress them."

Levi stared at the photograph in his hand once more.

"And if that photograph is a source of guilt, maybe it's time to set that aside as well."

"What would I have to feel guilty about?" Levi asked.

"I don't know, actually, but you hold onto that as if there's some kind of penance you owe."

"I'm not Catholic. No penance."

"Not in terms of the formal rites, but Jews have a need for atonement, as well from what I understand."

"I'm barely Jewish anymore. I haven't been to a synagogue since my mother died."

"I can't speak to that, but is there something you feel guilty about with that picture? Tamara told me that you carry it with you all the time."

Levi didn't want to answer that question. It was one thing to reveal it to Tamara. He trusted her. And even at that, it had been very hard to do it. Now, when he had absolutely no ability to hold back the things he'd always felt, when his whole being seemed constantly out of control, he didn't want to say anything that might lead to some embarrassing reaction. So he said nothing.

...and was mildly surprised when Dr. Hicks didn't push it.

"Last thing. Have you spoken to your daughter?"

"Not much."

"She's still here, isn't she?"

"Yes. I'm surprised. I figured she'd be long gone. She has a job and she's rarely taken any time off."

"Maybe you should try and talk to her."

"I'm not why she's here. She's here for her mother."

"While that is no doubt true, I think she's here for you, too. Even if it's just because she doesn't feel she can leave until you're more recovered."

"More sane."

"No. More recovered. You're far from insane, Levi."

"It would almost be easier if you were wrong."

"I can see you thinking that, but you'd hate it even more than you hate this."

"If I was completely insane, I wouldn't know the difference."

"True enough."

Levi was quiet for a few seconds.

"I forget about her because I can't think of anything else but Tamara. I try, but Tamara is the one I need."

"I understand that. Your world is pretty small right now, and that's mostly out of necessity as you deal with this. It'll get larger again."

"Whether I want it to or not."

"Yes. No matter what."

Levi nodded, but the thought tired him out again. He leaned back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling again. ...and suddenly, his eyes started to close.

"All right, Levi. That's enough for now."

He struggled to open his eyes again, but the effort he expended to interact normally sapped a lot of his energy and he just couldn't do it. So he let his eyes close all the way and barely heard Dr. Hicks leave. After a few seconds...maybe minutes, he wasn't sure, he felt someone sit beside him on the couch.

"Levi, are you awake?" The voice was so soft that he almost couldn't hear it, but he always heard this voice.

"Yes," he said almost as softly.

"Do you want to nap here?"

The thought of getting up and going anywhere made him even more tired, but he also felt like he was being too weak. He struggled to open his eyes and sit up. He caught a brief glimpse of Tamara, but then, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"It's all right, Levi. Bri is out. All I'm doing is reading. You can sleep right here and not be in anyone's way."

He made one more attempt to sit up and then felt Tamara easing him down to lie on his side.

"I'm right here and I'll be here if you need me," Tamara said.

"I always need you," he whispered, almost inaudibly.

Whatever response Tamara made was lost to him. He felt her brush her hand over his head and vaguely he realized that he had that annoying fuzz growing back in.

 _I'll have to shave again,_ he thought as he finally allowed himself to sleep.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tamara waited until Levi was truly asleep. Then, she got up and walked over to where Dr. Hicks was sitting in the hall.

"He went the whole session without asking for you," Dr. Hicks said. "That's a definite improvement."

"Is it enough, though?" Tamara asked, keeping her voice low. "I have to admit that it's really hard needing to be with him all the time."

"I know that and so does he. If you need the break, say so. He needs you, but he's at the stage now where he can be without you for some period of time, but I agree that he shouldn't be alone for any real length of time yet. While it would be awkward at best, I think you could let your daughter be the one here, even if neither of them would really enjoy it. I asked him about her and he's still having trouble thinking about anyone besides you."

"Is all this really just because he thought I was dead?"

"The physical pain and how close he came to dying contributed, but I don't think he was exaggerating when he said that thinking you were dead broke him. And that means that it happened all at once. When I was tortured, it lasted for a year and I was broken, both physically and mentally, but it happened gradually and by the end, I would have told them anything if I could have. I had nothing to tell, but if I could have, I would. In fact, I made things up, hoping that it would be what they wanted since I had no idea. For Levi, it wasn't gradual. They had planned on it being gradual I would guess, but they assumed that it would be something else that broke him and it happened in a second. Some of the things he's told me indicate that he was dying as much because of the emotional pain as because of the physical damage."

"How long will it take?"

"I don't know. That's why you need to be able to leave him occasionally, just not alone until he's more recovered. It'll happen, but it'll take time, and you need to keep your own needs in mind. You can't give up on yourself. He wouldn't want that, either."

Tamara took a deep breath and looked back at where Levi was sleeping.

"I never realized just how much he held back...until he didn't hold back anything. Dr. Hicks, I had never seen Levi cry before, not even when his mother died. He was upset but he didn't cry. When Quinn died, he didn't even go to the funeral. But when he saw me, when he realized I was alive, he almost couldn't breathe and he was sobbing. I've wanted him to let me in...or let himself out, but I'm almost afraid of it."

Dr. Hicks smiled. "That's simply because it's so extreme. You said it yourself that Levi has not cried, at least, not that you've ever seen. That means that when he's in this emotional extremity, what you see will be shocking, but the important thing is that you let him express it without making it seem wrong. Right now, he can't help but express himself, but as he grows stronger, the habits of the last 30 years will make him want to go back to expressing as little as possible and if he thinks that his emotions are strange or unwanted, it will only push him back to what is easiest. And that's not what you or I want for him."

"No," Tamara said. "Okay. When Brianna gets back, I'll have her stay with him while I go shopping."

"That sounds like a good idea. How is his physical therapy going?"

"He's still doing the things they would have done in the hospital before getting released. He just gets tired so easily, but they say he's getting better."

"I'm sure he is. Right now, Tamara, you're in this middle state where the healing is happening, but you can't see anything obvious to indicate it yet. That will change. Just keep up your hope."

"I'm working on it."

Dr. Hicks smiled and stood up. She could see his pain as he began to walk toward the front door.

"Thank you for making the trip here, Dr. Hicks. I know it's not easy for you."

Dr. Hicks paused and turned back. He had a smile on his lips that was not the same as he'd had before.

"This kind of work is why I wanted to become a psychiatrist, so that I could give back the same gift I was given. It's worth any pain if I can do that. I don't know if Levi ever told you, but he's the one who saved me from my own torture."

"I didn't know that."

"He was. If I can help save him, in some small way, it's worth the pain of walking."

Then, he turned back to the door and left. Tamara went back to the family room and watched Levi sleep.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

Gibbs watched as Tim focused intently on trying to space out his cedar planks as perfectly as possible. He'd done all the calculations, even down to figuring out the perfect angles. That part didn't surprise Gibbs at all. But Tim's chosen pattern had. Instead of going for something simple since it was his first time attempting to build something larger than a single shelf, Tim had decided on a herringbone design. Not the most complicated choice, but it was still much more complicated than he would have thought Tim would choose, especially because he had decided to mount the pattern on a black background and space out the individual boards as if he was laying tile. He'd also chosen to stain the individual boards different colors to add more movement (with blue being one of the stain colors, of course). All in all, he'd made this way more complicated than Gibbs would have thought, and if he could pull it off, it would look amazing.

There was just something about the way Tim worked with wood, though. No matter how many times Gibbs had said that it wasn't important to be perfect, Tim still approached every project with an intensity totally out of proportion to the task at hand. And yet, he seemed to enjoy himself, so perhaps this was just how he liked working. Maybe.

"Tim?" he asked.

"Just a minute," Tim said.

Gibbs smiled and watched as Tim carefully placed a plank and then put a few spacers to keep it exactly where he wanted it. Then, Tim turned around.

"Yeah?"

"Why do you still do this?" Gibbs asked, although that hadn't been his original question.

Tim's brow furrowed as he tried to figure out where Gibbs was going with this.

"Uh...I like it?"

"Why?"

"Is this some kind of test, Boss?" Tim asked. "Because I'd really rather not have any psychoanalysis tonight."

Gibbs chuckled. "Nope. Just wondering. You take it too seriously."

"Well... this is going to be for Zahara. I want it to be good," Tim said. "I didn't think there was anything wrong with that."

"There's not."

"Then, what's the problem?"

"Does it actually help?"

Tim suddenly smiled and shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think about it, Boss. I used to do it just because it helped me stop expecting too much of myself, but really, now it's an escape and that's all. And in this case, since you told me to make a headboard, it's going to be important to get right because it's going to be a gift. If it was just another box...well, I might rush through it, but this needs to be right." He looked back at the half-finished board and smiled. "Sometimes, it can just be simple."

"Simple would be a piece of wood, maybe with some trim. You didn't pick simple."

Tim laughed. "No, I didn't, but doing it is simple. Wood is simple. No complications, no expectations except for the ones I have of myself." His expression became a little wistful as he stared at the wood. "I don't have a simple life, and I doubt I ever will, but the complications I have aren't too bad at this point. Zahara came out of a complication, and I don't know that I could ever have anyone better. I hadn't even thought I could have anyone, let alone someone like her. She's a complication but I wouldn't trade Zahara for a simple life. And since I couldn't do it anyway, there's no reason to dwell on it."

Then, Tim turned and faced Gibbs fully.

"And so as long as you don't mind me coming here to use your tools and everything, I'll keep doing it when I can. I never thought I'd be someone who can work with wood. It's hard, especially the way you do it, but I do enjoy it."

"Don't have to do it the way I do."

Tim grinned. "Yeah, I do. I don't have any power tools, and I'm not willing to buy them, either."

Then, he looked at his watch.

"I'd better get home before Zahara starts to worry."

Tim turned back to his project, carefully checked all the boards he'd already placed to make sure that they were secure. Then, he headed for the stairs.

"Thanks, Boss."

"You're welcome, McGee. Anytime."

Tim turned back.

"I know, Boss. I really do know that. Thanks."

Then, Tim left the basement. Gibbs walked over to the unfinished headboard and checked the spacing with a small ruler. He smiled.

"Perfect," he said.

He put away his tools and headed for bed.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

If anyone had told Bri that she'd get exactly what she wanted and that she'd hate it when she did, she would have scoffed at them. That smacked of poor understanding and she always worked hard to understand everything around her.

And yet, as she waited for her father to finish his physical therapy, as she saw his weakness and his uncertainty, she knew that she did have what she had thought she wanted. Her father was as weak and open as it was possible for him to be.

And she hated it.

He wasn't watching her. At the moment, he was getting his breath back from a grueling walk around the small track. He was certainly getting stronger, but he was still so weak and he couldn't do anything but speak when spoken to. In fact, Bri had stopped asking him questions because he answered and he did so bluntly. She knew he wasn't lying and she wasn't sure she wanted to know what he told her.

"You're doing great, Levi."

"Compared to what?" Levi asked. "To being dead?"

Ian, his physical therapist chuckled. "If you want, but you made it all the way around the track for the first time and your heart is beating well. A little fast but that's to be expected. It's even."

"I can feel that. My heart is definitely beating," Levi said and took a deep breath. "How much longer?"

"No rushing. You'll know."

"I don't like that answer. I think you're dodging."

Ian smiled. "I'm not. I promise. You can't rush healing your heart, and you're old enough that, if you push too much, too soon, you'll only make things worse. So instead of giving you a definite length of time, I'm going to force you to listen to what your body tells you. You can't push this if you want to truly heal."

"People keep telling me that I'm old," Levi said. He smiled slightly. "It's not good for my self esteem."

Ian laughed. "I think you need the reminder. It doesn't mean you're feeble. It just means that you need to give a little more time than you must have before. You should have the wisdom that comes with age."

Bri watched as her father actually smiled a real smile. It was tired, yes, but he was expressing a real emotion. How long had it been since she had seen that? How much had she _wanted_ to see it? And why didn't she like it now? In fact, she was annoyed at herself for being so irrational.

Ian checked Levi's heart rate and then nodded in approval.

"All right. You're ready to go. When you get home, I want you to promise me that you'll take a real rest...right after you eat something. I can see that your daughter is here, so there's a witness."

Levi looked over at Bri and nodded.

"There's always someone watching," he said.

Bri thought that sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it, but before she could try to figure it out, she watched and suppressed a grimace as her father got to his feet and walked to her at that slow pace that bespoke his continued weakness.

"Ready to go, Dad?" she asked.

"Yes," he said.

They walked out to the car. Bri wanted to walk much faster just to get him to move at the pace she was used to, but she also knew that he couldn't. As much as she hated it, she had to deal with it.

They got into the car and she watched as her father closed his eyes and breathed heavily just at the slight exertion. She didn't say anything. Instead, she just started driving back home.

"Why are you still here, Brianna?" Levi asked after a few minutes. "Surely, you have work to do. You've been here for quite a while."

"I do."

"Then, why stay here?"

"Because my father almost died."

A slight smile, closer to what she was used to.

"But he didn't."

Bri debated being honest, but then, awkwardly, she just said it.

"But he still looks like he could."

Levi opened his eyes and looked at her. It was funny but his eyes had never bothered her. Perhaps because she had grown up seeing them.

"Well, everyone will die eventually."

"But not yet."

"Yes, it's hard to hate me when I'm like this, isn't it."

Bri grimaced. That was the kind of thing that she found so uncomfortable about this. It wasn't that he might not have said something similar before, but she could hear the regret in his voice where he would have been simply stating a fact before. And she couldn't pretend she didn't hear the regret.

She chose not to answer, although actually agreeing out loud was unnecessary. They both knew.

Suddenly, he looked out the window.

"Stop here. At this park."

"Ian said you need to go home and rest."

"We're not home yet, and I'm hardly going to start running. Just to the bench."

She saw the bench. It would take perhaps ten steps to get to it from the closest spot available.

"Fine."

She pulled into the space. Then, Levi got out and walked to the bench. He sat down. Reluctantly, Bri sat beside him. There was just silence for a few minutes. Bri was about to ask what in the world they were doing here when the silence was broken.

"This is where I left your mother," he said.

"Dad, I hate to remind you, but Mom left you."

A knowing (but still tired) smile.

"Yes, she did because I made sure she would. I couldn't do it myself. But I could make sure that her only option was to walk away. I just never guessed that she would try to leave the door open for me to come back. That wasn't my plan."

"You accepted it."

"How could I not?" he said. "This is where she let me come back, too. I walked away from her here, and I walked back to her here."

"Did you plan that?"

Levi moved his gaze from the park to her, and it was a disconcerting expression in his eyes.

"No. I thought I'd be dead before I could ever go back. I never planned on a good ending. That's not how life works."

"But you went back."

For just a moment, his expression was just like she remembered. A combination of surprise and just a shade of disappointment at her response.

"Could you have given up the chance for a happy ending if you knew it was possible? I had to go back."

They were quiet again. Then, Bri looked over.

"You've never asked me," she said.

"Why would I when I know what your answer is?" he asked. "You can't even bring yourself to verbalize what I'd be asking."

"What about with Mom?"

"I know there's a chance with your mother, even if I don't deserve it." Then, he looked at her with an indefinable expression and it was one of those times when she hated that she was getting what she wanted but still wasn't happy about it. "I don't think I have a chance with you, Bri. I don't deserve one and you agree with me that I don't. All our bridges are burned and I can't rebuild them. Only you can and I don't believe that you want to."

Bri looked away, feeling extremely uncomfortable under her father's gaze. Then, suddenly, something happened that shocked her more than she would have thought possible, considering how simple it was.

For the first time in years, her father voluntarily touched her. Levi reached out and patted her shoulder.

"Don't worry. I don't blame you. You have every right."

Then, he took a breath and Bri watched as he struggled to push himself to his feet. He settled back on the bench for a moment, clearly steeling himself to try again. She stood up and held out her hand, to help him up. He looked at her hand and then up at her, his eyebrow lifting just slightly.

"You need the help," she said.

"Yes, I do."

He took her hand and she pulled him to his feet. Then, she let him lean on her until they got to the car. He got in without speaking and then leaned back on the seat and closed his eyes. She drove them home and he got out of the car before she could help him again. He walked slowly into the house. Bri lagged behind, but she watched as Tamara greeted them and Levi got an expression of relief on his face when he saw her, as if he'd been afraid she would be gone.

And that was the worst part of this, Bri decided. Her infuriating and yet invincible father had become so fragile that he was afraid that Tamara would disappear when he couldn't see her. He managed to hide it some of the time, but every time he saw her after she'd been gone somewhere, he was relieved.

Bri closed the door behind her as Tamara made sure that Levi ate something and then lay down on the couch and slept. Then, she walked into the living room and stared at her father as he slept.

"You've been very quiet this afternoon," Tamara said softly from behind her.

"I didn't have anything to say."

"Actually, to me, if felt like you had a _lot_ to say, but you didn't want to say it."

Bri turned around.

"I can't hate him, okay? Are you happy now, Mom?"

Tamara's smile was sad.

"No, Bri. The fact that you resent it so much does not make me happy because all that means is that you've let the current situation affect how you see him. Once he recovers, you'll be happy to go back to hating him as you have in the past. That's not changing anything. It's just delaying it. That's all. So no, that doesn't make me happy."

Bri stalked by her to the backyard. She'd always hated it when her mother lectured her without even raising her voice. Of course, walking away didn't really provide any escape. Tamara just followed her out the door.

"Brianna, you are free to feel how you feel, but don't expect me to say I agree with you. Your father agrees that you're right to hate him. I don't agree, and you know that, but you have the right to feel that way. You have the right to be uncomfortable with him and you have the right to refuse to admit that he's changing. I will _never_ say that you don't. Just don't ask me to agree with you that you're doing the right thing. I don't think you are."

Bri turned around once more.

"How could you forgive him? How could you let him come back? How could you even _think_ about letting him come back? I know how you felt."

Tamara walked over and, to Bri's surprise, hugged her.

"Oh, Bri. I have so little family left that I want to keep it as much as I can. Your father has no family left but us. I don't want him to be left alone. And I hate that you keep separating yourself from the family you could have. I want us to be happy again, no matter how difficult it is to get there."

"Happy? With him?"

"Yes. It wouldn't be like it was. That's impossible and we all know it, but it _is_ possible that we could be happy, if you would just soften a little bit."

Bri pulled away and turned to face the garden.

"Would you marry him again?"

"Yes. If he asked."

"Why don't _you_ ask, then?"

"Because he's not ready and when you care about someone, it's not all about what you want and when you want it. I know that Levi will ask when he's ready for me to say yes, because I think, deep down, he knows I will, but he's not ready for what that will mean for him."

Silence.

"What would you do if your father and I remarried?"

"I don't know."

"Would you hate me, too?"

"No. I couldn't do that."

"I'm glad because I'd hate to lose you."

"You'd choose Dad over me?"

"You'd make me choose between two people I love?"

Again, Bri hated how her mother could deliver a reprimand without even sounding like she was, but they both knew the reprimand was there.

"How much longer are you going to stay?"

"As long as you need me to stay," Bri said.

"Surely you have to get back to work. You've been here for weeks."

"I told them that my father almost died. They don't know how I feel about him. Dave said that I could take as much time as I needed."

"Dave seems like a very nice man. He's not married, is he?"

"Mom, I'm not looking for a matchmaker."

"That doesn't mean you don't have one."

Bri smiled and turned around again, recognizing that they were going to be done with the serious stuff for a while.

"He's not married, is he?" Tamara asked again.

"No. Divorced."

"See?"

"Mom."

Tamara just smiled. "Come inside, Bri. You can tell me about him."

"Mom."

"Don't use that tone on me. You can't put me off that way."

Bri relented and followed her mother inside.

When they got inside, she saw her father asleep on the couch. Would he ever look normal again?

 _Do I really want that?_

Then, she pushed the thought away and walked into the kitchen with her mother.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

Levi woke up early as he often did. One of the problems with sleeping throughout the day was that he didn't often sleep all the way through the night. He was trying not to sleep so much during the day, but when everything tired him out, he couldn't help but sleep. Right now, however, he was very much awake. He sat up in bed and looked at Tamara as she slept. Part of him wanted to touch her just to make sure that she was really sleeping and not dead. However, he was enough in control of himself that he didn't _have_ to do that. It was just something he wanted to do. And right now, he didn't want to wake Tamara up more.

 _How many of those lines and gray hairs did I put there?_ Levi thought to himself.

Probably way too many. On the rare occasions when he allowed himself to think back to the early days of their marriage, he remembered how much she had smiled and laughed when she was younger. He had always been more serious than she was, but she had helped him lighten up. So much of his life had been overshadowed by the horrors of the Holocaust that he had found it difficult to be lighthearted. The Nazis had been his monsters. He wasn't afraid of the boogeyman. He wasn't afraid of Frankenstein. The swastika had terrified him as a child because he had grown up knowing what had been done under that sign, how much of his family had died because of it. He literally had no cousins because everyone had been killed before they could have children. If there were any more distant relatives left who had stayed in Europe, he had no idea who they were. His side of the wedding party had been very small. Someone like Tamara who had been so carefree had been good for him. She had helped him let go of some of that seriousness and enjoy life.

 _How much is she enjoying it right now?_

Levi honestly didn't know. He knew he was doing better at letting her get out of his sight, but he couldn't quite hide how glad he was to see her again after she'd been gone or he'd been gone. He knew she saw it and tried to help him relax.

Quietly, he got out of bed and walked to the other occupied bedroom. The door was slightly ajar. He pushed it open without making a sound and watched his daughter sleep. As he recovered, he found that there was room in his mind to think about Brianna again. He was still surprised at how long she had stayed without even suggesting that it was time to get back to the life she was building in New York. He knew it was mostly because of Tamara, but he had to be honest and admit that it was partly him. There were moments when he almost thought there might be a chance, but they were so fleeting that he still didn't dare ask for a chance he was sure would be denied. And he could also admit that the proud part of him didn't want to give his daughter the opportunity to lord his current weakness over him.

But he also knew what Tamara wanted, and she wanted the family to get put back together again.

As much as it could be. He closed the door and then walked to the final bedroom, which was being used simply for storage. All the things that Tamara had not wanted to get rid of when they'd decided to move to this house away from anyone who would know either of them. If he was honest, Levi could admit that he was surprised none of his neighbors had realized that they had the former director of the CIA living next door, but he supposed that he'd just been too good at keeping a low profile while in office.

He opened the door and looked at the boxes. Unerringly, he walked over to the box labeled _Quinn_. He knelt down and opened the box. There were framed pictures from all the events that he'd never seen. Quinn had been smart and athletic and yet quiet and reserved. The kind of person people liked but only a few were able to get close to. When Bri and Quinn had joined the CIA, Quinn had taken his cue from his father and never even indicated some kind of familial connection. On the rare occasions that they had interacted, Quinn had given his father his complete, undivided attention. It was a very formal relationship they'd had and, unlike Bri who had always simmered with anger, even when acting professionally, Quinn had just seemed to accept the way things were. Had he really? Levi didn't know and he could never know because he hadn't asked.

Why had he imagined seeing his son in his delusions? Of all the people he could have imagined seeing, the people he had hurt, had neglected, had used, why Quinn? Dr. Hicks seemed to think there was a way that he could have really been there, but Levi knew it had just been a delusion due to his weakened state. Maybe Quinn had been the part of his mind that realized it was possible Tamara hadn't died in the house and was keeping him from giving up completely.

But why Quinn? Why not Tamara herself?

He closed up the box and then turned his attention to another box. This one filled with home movies. He pulled out a couple at random and walked to the living room and sat down on the couch to rest. Then, he put in one of the movies.

Instantly, he regretted doing it. He usually tried not to look back at the happy days. Why torture himself with what he'd destroyed?

This one was silent. He still remembered why. They'd had a regular handheld camcorder, but it had broken and the only one Tamara had managed to get was an old one without an internal microphone. So they had the images without any of the sound. It almost wasn't necessary anyway, though. This was just a regular summer day. Bri and Quinn were running through the sprinkler, obviously shrieking with delight. He couldn't tell how old they were, but the fact that he was there and smiling gave him a clue. He watched his younger self as he chased the two children around the yard, occasionally picking one up and holding them in the sprinkler so they couldn't get away. Bri was never more than a few steps away from him while Quinn ran all over the place. He turned it off and put in the other one.

This one had sound, but he found that he couldn't bear to hear it so he muted it. He'd been controlling the camera this time. Tamara was Bri's patient and Quinn was Bri's assistant. He'd forgotten that Bri had been playing doctor that early in her life. He smiled as he watched Bri carefully wrap Tamara's arm in bandages, listen to her heart and then, clearly, declare her mother to be cured. Tamara leapt to her feet and Quinn, who was probably three years old, was jumping around excitedly. And then, Bri ran toward him, her hand out and the video began to shake as she was clearly pulling him to his feet. Then, Quinn ran over and joined in the pulling.

 _How could I have given this up? Was my mistake enough to warrant that?_

But even as he thought it, he knew that he would have probably destroyed his family in another way if he had tried not to take responsibility for what he'd done when he saved Dr. Hicks and let Higgins get away. The only way to avoid the way his family had been torn apart would have been to not join the the CIA in the first place, and he'd been recruited so skillfully that he would never have turned down the chance to make a difference, to create a world where the Holocaust couldn't ever happen again.

He turned off the TV and then sat there, staring at the blank screen. He was feeling tired again, but he wanted think this through before falling asleep. He sat in silence for a while.

"I tore this family apart," he whispered to the empty room. "I'm the one who has to put it back together. If it's even possible."

Decision made, he forced himself to get up and walk back into the bedroom. He got back into bed as quietly as he could and fell asleep.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Zahara smiled nervously at the computer. She'd been talking with Fatima, using video chat and taking advantage of the chance to speak in Arabic with her. Tim tried, but he wasn't adept enough to actually have a conversation.

" _Have you said anything to him yet?"_ Fatima asked.

"No. What if I'm wrong?"

" _Do you really think you are?"_

"No, but I'll admit that I don't have any experience."

" _Nor do I, but my sisters knew. Tim loves you and you shouldn't hide it from him."_

"I'm not! It's only been a couple of days that I've been thinking about it," Zahara protested.

" _A couple of days. That's hiding it."_

"What if he's not happy?"

" _He will be."_

"But he'll worry."

" _All men worry. That seems to be all they know how to do. Zahara, tell him."_

"Okay. I will. Tonight, when he comes home."

" _Good. Ibrahim will have two days free this weekend and we're going to go to Zagora Province to see if we can find anything about your father."_

"That's wonderful, but if it's his first vacation..."

" _No, it's fine. We're going to stop at Tamegroute while we're down there and it will be a nice chance to get out into the desert for fun instead of for work. We'll have time together and that's the most important thing."_

"All right."

" _And let me know whether or not Tim faints when you tell him,"_ Fatima said, grinning.

Zahara laughed. "Tim wouldn't faint. That's not the kind of man he is."

" _He's a man. They're weaker than you think."_

Zahara laughed again. "I have to go. Thank you for letting me talk."

" _I'm always available to talk to you, Zahara. You know that. Perhaps Khadija and I will make a visit together. ...maybe in a few months?"_

Zahara blushed. "Yes. Maybe."

" _Good. Let me know."_

"I will. Good-bye."

" _Good-bye."_

Zahara disconnected and then sat back for a few seconds. Fatima was right and she should have said something already, but this was new to her and she'd never had anyone to tell her about it.

But it would be tonight.

Determined, she went back to her shopping list to decide what to buy for dinner.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

All morning, Tamara felt like Levi's mind was on something significant, like he was only half paying attention to what was going on. It happened sometimes that he was preoccupied, but it hadn't really happened much in the last few weeks.

Then, she suddenly realized that she hadn't seen him in a while. Curious, she started to look for him.

And of all places, he was in the bathroom. She peeked inside and grinned.

Levi was standing at the sink, carefully shaving his head. For a few minutes, she just watched him, but then, he caught a glimpse of her in the mirror and turned around, raising a questioning eyebrow, probably at how wide her smile was.

"Yes?" he asked, sounding as close to normal as he had up to now.

"I never realized that you weren't just bald."

He actually smiled. "I should be, but part of my head wasn't getting the message."

"Why shave? It doesn't look bad, you know. It looks distinguished."

"I disagree, but even if I didn't, a balding man looks more like a librarian or an accountant than he does a CIA agent. Not very intimidating. And now...it's what I'm used to seeing in the mirror. I've been shaving my head regularly for at least fifteen years, probably closer to twenty."

"So you're going to keep it up?"

"Yes. Now that I can."

He turned back to the mirror and continued to shave.

"I have to admit that I find it rather entertaining to see you so concerned with how you look."

Levi smiled a little. "Appearances can matter. It's all well and good for people to say that you shouldn't go by what you see, but that's the way humans are designed. Our brains are hardwired to analyze our environment. That includes others who are in that environment. If we simply ignore the cues we're given, we might as well say, _eat me_."

Tamara laughed. "I see your point, but I'm not sure we need to worry about being consumed."

"If you saw a person wearing a necklace made of human teeth, would you think, 'Well, I shouldn't judge based on what I'm seeing. Maybe it's just a family heirloom' or would you give that person the wide berth, maybe even go the other direction just in case you actually were in danger of coming face to face with a cannibal?"

"That's a rather large leap from shaving your head to cannibalism."

Levi's eyes actually twinkled with amusement. "Maybe not as large as you might think."

"Levi, have you seen a necklace of human teeth? Is that what you're telling me?"

"No. I haven't. I'm just pointing out that we present an image to the world and we decide what that is. We can't choose an image that has a particular interpretation and then get upset when people give us that exact interpretation."

"So you're saying you don't want to be taken for an accountant."

"No, I don't. That's not what I am. It would be a form of lying to pretend I was."

"Whatever makes you happy."

"It's my head, Tamara. It's not about happiness. Just about what's right."

"Isn't it always."

He glanced at her, searching for a double meaning and didn't reply.

"You missed a spot," Tamara said after a few more seconds.

"Where?"

"In the back. Here. Let me."

She stepped forward and took the razor. Carefully, she shaved the small spot that Levi had missed. Then, she rubbed her hand on the newly-smooth skin and handed back the razor.

"There."

He hadn't turned around, but she saw his expression in the mirror.

"Thank you," he said, quietly.

The feeling in the bathroom had changed very suddenly.

"You're welcome."

Then, she touched his shoulder and left him to finish his task, wondering at the different feeling. Maybe he'd get around to telling her eventually.

In reality, she was just glad that he was aware enough to think about what he looked like and that his mind was working well enough that he could banter a little bit. He was getting stronger, closer to normal, although physically, he was still very run down.

Tamara just prayed that this wouldn't also mean a return to the emotionless interactions that had been far too common even after years of trying to come back together again.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim came home and smelled the glorious smell of Berber-style beef tagine. While he didn't begrudge Zahara trying new recipes or forcing some of the ones she knew on him, he had to admit that this was his favorite dish. Zahara always made it in the traditional clay tagine and it took over three hours to cook, so they didn't have it very often.

"What's the occasion?" he asked.

Zahara looked up from her book and smiled.

"We have not had it in a long time."

"No, we haven't. I'm definitely not complaining about dinner tonight."

Zahara laughed. "You never complain about dinner."

"Well, I did once. That tilapia one."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "That was a new recipe and I have not made it since, have I."

"No, but that's only because you hated it, too."

"How was I to know that it would be so bland?"

"You can't. Not without trying it first. The peppers tasted good."

"Well, dinner is ready. So you should change quickly."

"Will do."

As quickly as he could, Tim changed and went out to help set the table. It was only the two of them. There weren't many dishes, but they still always set the table together when they could. They ate and it was delicious as always. Tim was always tempted to eat way too much, but usually he resisted so that there would be leftovers. Maybe he could even take some to work the next day and make everyone jealous.

"That was delicious, Zahara. I love it."

"I know. You seem to inhale it."

"Oh, no. I savor every bite. I just do it really fast."

"Ha." She kissed his cheek. "We should clean up and then I have something I need to tell you."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, but clean up, first."

"Okay."

Tim did wonder what it was about, but at the same time, Zahara didn't seem anxious or afraid. So he figured it was going to be about someone visiting again or maybe Fatima and Ibrahim had found some information about her father. As they cleaned up the kitchen, Tim talked about how he wondered if the team was being given simpler cases because of what had happened. He had even suggested it to the others, but they had said that wouldn't happen since the case had been mostly unsanctioned. Still, the downtime wasn't bad at all, and Tim didn't mind things being easier for a while.

"Okay. What is it?"

Zahara took his hand and pulled him to the couch. They sat down and Tim waited...and waited. Zahara fidgeted a little bit and Tim became a little worried. What was going on?

"Well?" he asked.

"Tim... I think I am pregnant," Zahara said, sounding a little nervous.

For a second, the words didn't even seem to have any meaning. Then, he thought he'd heard a word that had not even crossed his mind.

"What?"

"I think that I am pregnant."

There was that word again. Stunned wasn't even close to the word that described what he was now feeling.

"That's... That's what I thought you said. I thought you said that you were...pregnant."

Zahara smiled. "I did. Are you all right?"

All right? Was that even in the realm of possibility? Tim was pretty sure that all right didn't describe how he was feeling, but then, he tracked in on what she had said. His mind was whirling so fast that he didn't even know what to say. If he'd been standing when she said it, he'd probably have fallen over.

"Uh...I... I think I'm glad I'm sitting. You said you _think_? You're not sure?" If Zahara had done this without knowing for sure, Tim wasn't sure he could take the possible emotional rollercoaster.

"Well, I have not yet been sick but I have seen some signs."

"You haven't taken a pregnancy test or anything?"

"A what?" Zahara asked, her brow furrowing. "Is that really something people do?"

And then, Tim realized that this was not something that would necessarily have ever come up for Zahara. Why would she even think about it? Come to think of it, did Morocco even _have_ them? He had no idea.

Finally, he started to smile.

"Okay. We're going to a store where we can buy one and see."

"Tim, I am quite certain," Zahara said. "A doctor would need to confirm, but this is not a guess."

"This will make it even more certain. For me," Tim said. He jumped to his feet and held out his hand.

"Are you happy?" Zahara asked.

"My mind is going a million miles a second. _You_ might know, but I need something more...visual before I decide if I'm happy or not."

Zahara laughed and let him pull her to her feet.

"In a few months, it will be very visual," she said.

"I can't wait that long! Besides, if you're right, we'll need to find... Wow. We'll have so much to do. And...things to buy. Do you think that this place is big enough and..." Tim's brain started supplying everything he could possibly need to worry about.

"Tim, calm down. If I am right, we will have many months to figure things out. If you start worrying now, you might get an ulcer."

"I might anyway," Tim said, blushing a little at his reaction.

Then, he dragged Zahara with him out of the building and to the nearest store. They bought a test, went back home, Zahara took the test and they waited for the results. In fact, they set the test out of sight while they waited the prescribed time to keep from peeking early.

"Tim, do you not want this to be true?" Zahara asked as they waited.

Tim looked at her. He smiled.

"I do want it to be true. I'm just worried about it being true, too. Just like I worried about marrying you. I wanted it, but I wasn't sure I should have it."

Zahara cupped her hand on his cheek and touched his scars.

"I have never regretted marrying you. I have a very good life and I am happy, Tim. Our child will be happy with us, too."

The timer Tim had set suddenly went off and he jumped.

"Time to look. What if this shows nothing?"

"These tests are not always accurate," Zahara said. "You read that yourself."

"Yeah, I know. It's just that it's all built up in my head now."

"It will not change if we don't look at it."

"I know."

They grabbed the test and looked at it. While Tim trusted Zahara to know her own body, he was just more of a tactile kind of person.

"Pregnant," he said and started grinning. He leaned over and hugged Zahara tightly. "You're pregnant! You're pregnant, Zahara!"

"I was before this test," Zahara said.

Tim laughed. "I know. But it seems more real to me now. This... Zahara, I still sometimes have to remind myself that I was able to fall in love and get married. Having kids... It's like the ultimate dream in the middle of what could have been a nightmare. It's..." Then, another thought struck him. "We're going to need to find a doctor. Man, I don't even know where to go!"

"We know doctors. They should be able to tell us someone. There are people at NCIS who have children. They will know doctors," Zahara said reasonably.

"You're way too calm," Tim said.

Zahara smiled. "One of us has to be."

"I'm sorry that I'm freaking out about this."

Zahara hugged him back. "You are excited. Not freaking out. I thought maybe you did not want children to worry about."

"I don't want to worry, but I know I will. ...but that's not even a little bit what I was thinking. Honestly, I just hadn't got far enough to think about having kids."

"We decided not to for the first year anyway," Zahara said. "That became a habit."

"Yeah. Wow. I... I always wanted to be a father," he said finally.

"And now, you will be."

Tim leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you."

They discarded the test and cleaned up. Then, they went and sat down on the couch again. Zahara snuggled up close to Tim. He put his arms around her, feeling like he already had to start protecting her. Would he be able to just be happy without worrying? Probably not, but as the reality of it began to settle in on him, Tim just couldn't believe how amazing his life was. All the things he'd wanted to have, he had.

And he was about to have more.

They could have done some major celebrating, but instead, they decided to have their usual movie night.

But they sat very close together and Tim held Zahara all the way through show.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tamara woke up in the middle of the night. She sat up and realized that Levi wasn't in bed. She knew that he often woke up during the night, but normally, she didn't hear him. He was very quiet.

She got out of bed and walked out into the living room. It was empty, but the TV was on and she realized that it was one of the old home movies playing. She watched for a few seconds. It was one that she hadn't pulled out in years, not since the divorce at least. Bri had been only three years old. She was sitting on Levi's lap and he was showing her pictures of his family. He'd never had many, for obvious reasons, but this had been right after his mother had died and he had cleaned out her house. She had started filming before he'd noticed.

" _Who dat, Daddy?"_

" _That's my daddy."_

" _Where your daddy?"_

" _He died."_

" _Why?"_

There was a long pause and she could see him struggling with his emotions. Then, he smiled, although she knew that he didn't really feel like smiling.

" _He was sick and he just couldn't get better."_

" _You die, Daddy?"_

" _No. No, I won't die like that. You're stuck with me."_

Levi hugged Bri tightly and then set aside the album and looked up. He looked a little self-conscious at being filmed.

" _This will be the most boring video you've ever made, Tamara."_

Then, she heard her own voice.

" _It's beautiful, Levi. We'll watch it when Brianna is off to college and cry that our little girl is so big."_

Of course, that hadn't happened. He'd been gone by then. And she'd rarely had the heart to watch these videos she'd made when they were so happy together.

Tamara walked over to turn off the TV. Then, she happened to glance out into the back yard. Levi was sitting on the grass, his back to the house. Curious, Tamara walked out.

"Levi? What are you doing out here?"

There was no response. Now, she was a little concerned. She walked over to him and knelt down beside him.

And she got a major shock. His eyes were closed and tears were running down Levi's cheeks. He wasn't sobbing. In fact, if you didn't see the tears, you wouldn't even know he was crying.

For a moment, she didn't know what to do simply because she had no idea what was driving this and she'd had so few opportunities to take care of him that way. Once his mother died, he'd had no more family to lose. All had been lost years before she'd met him, and she'd never given him any reason to mourn a loss. This was new territory.

Then, she put her arms around him as she had when he'd first been rescued.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Still no response. She got the feeling that Levi was trying not to reveal his turmoil but his body still wasn't strong enough to hold it back.

"Please, Levi, talk to me."

He leaned his head on her shoulder but still didn't speak.

"Levi, I don't care if your voice is quivering or if you have to stammer or anything. I already know you're not weak. Please, let me help you."

"That's what's wrong," he said, almost in a whisper.

"What?"

He sat up and turned to face her. He didn't bother to wipe the tears away. He let them fall.

"I don't deserve what you're offering me. You shouldn't do this."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I destroyed our family, Tamara. And I can't even claim to have done it accidentally. I did it on purpose, thinking it would be better for you to be separated from me because of what I felt I had to do. And perhaps it was justified in that respect, but I didn't save Quinn from being murdered. I didn't save Brianna from being captured and tortured. I didn't save you from grief. What did I actually accomplish by destroying my family? I can't see that I did anything except destroy it."

His voice was so soft that it was almost inaudible, and Tamara knew it was because, no matter what she'd said, he didn't want to be weak, not even when revealing his weakness.

"I did that...and now... you are giving me the chance to have what I destroyed back. Why? Why would you do this for me? What have I done to deserve it? And I know the answer is nothing."

The funny thing was that this was the same question Bri had asked. What in the world could be the motivating factor behind giving someone a chance he didn't deserve. She could say that they'd made a deal and she was living up to her end of the bargain, but that wasn't really it. She would have done this without the bargain.

"Because I love you, Levi," she said, finally. "I never stopped loving Levi Carew, even when I hated Director Carew. I love you, and I know that you love me. We can't get back the time we lost, but we have time ahead of us and why would I keep that chance from you when it punishes me, too? I want the family we built."

"We can't have that," Levi said. "Quinn is dead and I might as well be as far as Bri is concerned. We can't have that family."

"Yes, we can. Quinn is dead, but that doesn't mean he's not still a part of the family. And Bri will soften in time. You just have to give her that time."

Tamara reached out and wiped away the tears Levi refused to acknowledge. Then, she took his head in her hands and leaned over until their foreheads were touching.

"We _can_ be a family again," she said, firmly. "You just have to believe it. I believe it and I believe that it's possible for us to have our family whole and complete, even though Quinn can't be here. He would still want this. Levi, punishing yourself only punishes the rest of us, too. I can see how much you regret what was lost, but you can also look forward. Stop looking back to that time, stop looking back to your father, stop looking back to all of that. Look forward for once. I know that you can. If you could plan to fix something that took thirty years to happen, you can look forward and try to fix your family."

They sat there in silence again. Then, Levi pulled back and looked her in the eye, his dark eyes unreadable as ever.

"I haven't gone anywhere besides therapy, so I can't do this right."

"Do what? What are you talking about?"

Levi reached out and took her left hand in his.

"It's not a family if we're not married. Would you marry me again?"

Tamara had thought she couldn't be more surprised, but she was. She was stunned, so shocked that she couldn't even think of anything to say. She tightened her grip on his hand as he continued to talk.

"Can you take me as I am, knowing that it might not ever be what you really want? I'm still cracked, even if I'm not broken, and I'm not the man I was. I've been watching those old videos and I can't be that man again, not with all the will in the world." He paused for a moment and took a breath, as if he was steeling himself to say something momentous. "But I never stopped loving you, even if I never showed that to you. I never stopped."

Tamara smiled. "Oh, Levi. I don't need you to be who you were. I need you be who you are. If you can promise me that you'll try to be that, then, yes, I will marry you again. My family will think I'm insane. They did when we started this, but yes."

He still held her hand, but he turned it over so that he could see her ring finger.

"I'll get you a new ring...when I don't get tired by just walking out of the bedroom."

Tamara almost said that she didn't need a new ring, but then, she decided that it would be good for them both.

"Don't spend too much on it. We don't need that kind of thing."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said and smiled a little bit.

"Levi, if you want to put this family back together, I will be there every step of the way."

"I do," he said. "I just don't think I can."

"You can't alone, because a family isn't just you, but you can do it with help and you'll have it."

Then, he slowly brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. They hadn't been at all intimate in the years they'd been back together, even when sleeping in the same bed. But somehow, this was a deeper moment than anything else could have been at this point.

She stood up, still holding his hand.

"Come back to bed, Levi."

He nodded and let her help him stand and they went back into the house.


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

Tim walked into NCIS, his mind still buzzing with the knowledge that he was going to be a father. He had barely been able to sleep that night and Zahara had finally had to tell him that she wasn't going to shatter if he stopped looking at her. He figured that he'd probably settle down after a few days of the news sinking in, but it had been less than a day since he'd found out and he was still freaking out about it.

The elevator dinged and he got off, wondering if he'd be able to act normally today at all. Tony and Ziva were both already at their desks. In fact, he was just barely on time in spite of the fact that he'd got up early. Everything was just a little off kilter today.

"Good morning, Tim. You seem in a good mood," Ziva said.

"Must have had a good night," Tony said with a bit of a leer.

And it just slipped out. He hadn't even planned on saying anything just yet since they hadn't had it confirmed by a doctor, but it was all he was thinking about. And it just came out.

"Zahara's pregnant!" he said, much too loudly.

And then, blushed furiously as half the bullpen seemed to be looking at him at once. There were a few seconds of surprised silence, very uncommon first thing in the morning.

"Excited, are you, Probie?" Tony asked.

"A little," Tim said and smiled a little as a few of the witnesses to his outburst tittered.

"A little? You look ready to launch."

Tim cleared his throat and walked to his desk, just that he could sit down and be out of view of most of the bullpen.

Tony and Ziva walked over to him, though.

"Please, don't ask me how it happened. You'll just make me feel more embarrassed," Tim said.

Tony grinned.

"Now, that I think of it..."

"No, Tony," Tim said.

"Did you just find out?" Ziva asked.

"Zahara told me last night when I got home. I was going to wait to say something until we'd at least gone to a doctor to confirm it," Tim said, still feeling the heat in his face. "It'll be really awkward if we ended up being wrong."

"We won't tease you too much," Tony said.

"Yeah, right," Tim muttered.

"I'm surprised your face isn't bursting into flames with how red it is," Tony said.

"How are you feeling about it?" Ziva asked.

"I'm alternating between so excited I could die and so worried I could die. There's so much to think about and plan and..."

"And before you start planning and worrying, you should let yourself be _happy_ about it," Ziva interrupted. "You deserve to be happy, Tim."

Tim looked at them both and quirked a half smile.

"Is there time to just be happy?"

"Yes," Ziva said. "You have many months to worry."

"And then years after the baby is born, too. And nothing will go wrong," Tony added. "I can tell you're thinking about it. Stop."

"A few days and I'll be back on an even keel again," Tim said.

"Bad analogy, Probie. You're _never_ on an even _keel_."

Tim laughed. "True."

Then, Gibbs walked in and stopped to look at his team all crowded around Tim's desk. He raised an eyebrow.

"Everything's fine, Boss," Tim said, testing to see if Gibbs' usual omniscience held true.

"Congratulations," he said.

"Thanks, Boss."

"Better tell everyone else since half the building knows already."

Tim jumped to his feet.

"You're right."

He hurried to the elevator and went down to Abby's lab, first. Hopefully, he could keep this relatively short by saying he had to tell Ducky and Jimmy, too. In reality, everyone in the building would know about it within an hour, but his friends should hear it from him first.

...and he got very little work done for the rest of the day as he fielded questions from everyone, received congratulations and made sure to tell even Cynthia. He was understandably distracted, but for once, Gibbs didn't insist on things being normal, but then, he'd always been more lenient when it came to Tim's family. Normally, Tim tried not to take advantage, but with this big news, he needed the time to adjust and it was nice that he had this one day where he could have a little lower productivity and celebrate a little bit.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Levi was leaning back in the car, letting himself rest from his therapy. He was getting better, stronger, but that meant that they were pushing him more so that he could continue to get better. Today had been the first of the next stage and he had been wiped out by it. Bri had picked him up as she had frequently, but she hadn't said a word to him this time. He was okay with that. As soon as he'd sat down in the car, he'd closed his eyes and let himself breathe.

Then, he felt the car slow to a stop. He realized that he'd been unconsciously following the route Bri was driving and he knew that they shouldn't be stopping already. He opened his eyes.

"Do you want to stop here, Dad?" she asked, staring out the windshield.

He sat up and then stared at Bri for a long moment. It was rare that his daughter was able to surprise him. And this time, Bri had not only surprised him. She had shocked him.

"A jewelry store?" he asked.

Bri took a breath and still didn't look at him.

"If you and Mom are going to get married again, you're going to need to give her a ring. I don't think she has the one she had before."

"She told you?"

"No. I heard you last week."

"Eavesdropping?"

"You want to keep things private, don't talk right outside my bedroom window at two in the morning. I'll listen just out of resentment that you woke me up."

Levi found that he could smile.

"Good point. Yes, I'd like to stop here." He hesitated and then took a breath himself. "But I'm not sure I can make it inside the store after therapy today. Would you mind giving me a hand?"

"All right."

Bri got out of the car and walked around. Levi put out his hand and let her help him stand and then support him a little bit as they walked into the store. The man behind the counter looked concerned at his appearance, but Levi managed to smile.

"I'm a little winded. Do you have a chair I could sit on?"

"Yes, sir. Are you all right?"

"I'm recovering. This is better than I used to be."

"Oh, dear."

The man hurried out from behind the counter and got a chair for Levi to sit on. He sank down on it gladly. Then, the man suddenly realized he hadn't given his pitch.

"My name is Evan. Welcome to Johnson Jewelers. What can I do for you?"

"I need a ring."

Evan smiled. "Any special occasion? A wedding, perhaps?"

"Yes, that would be a good guess."

"You've come to the right place, then, sir." He then looked at Bri and then back at Levi, obviously wondering if the woman clearly much younger was the one for whom the ring was intended.

"This is my daughter," Levi said.

"Ah," Evan said, his face clearing. "Well, what kind of ring are you wanting? Given the situation, I can bring many of them out for viewing, although only one at a time."

"Understood."

He hadn't really decided what to get, but with Bri being suddenly magnanimous, he felt that he needed to make a decision today, right now.

"Do you have anything with a black band?"

"Yes, sir. Do you want the entire band black or just a strip?"

"Let me see some samples."

"Just give me a moment."

As Evan went back behind the counter, he felt Bri stir beside him.

"Black, Dad? Really? Can't you do anything normal?"

"No, I can't," he said, honestly. "But I have a reason for this."

"You always have a reason, even if it's just to annoy other people."

Levi smiled at that.

"So...what's the reason this time?"

He hesitated for just a moment and then decided to say it.

"Because your mother doesn't want anything big and flashy, but she deserves to have something unique and beautiful. And with a black band, any stone, no matter how small will stand out. Life in the midst of darkness."

A long pause...which was only broken by Evan coming back with two different rings. Levi suppressed a smile when he saw the two rings. Way too ornate and high end. They probably cost multiple thousands of dollars.

"They both have too many stones," he said as he looked at them. "It needs to be simpler. Smaller stones and not sticking out so much."

Evan smiled.

"Would you consider something inset?"

"Yes."

"All right. Just a moment."

He disappeared behind the counter again.

"You really feel that way. About Mom."

"Yes," Levi said, glad that he couldn't see Bri's face at the moment. She was just slightly behind him and he preferred that.

Evan came back with two more rings. Levi guessed that he'd decided it was too much trouble to really do only one at a time when the customer couldn't even stand at the counter.

"Here's one with a single stone and an inset green ceramic band."

Levi picked up the ring. The band was a little thicker than a typical wedding ring, but it did have a bright green stone with a narrow band of matching green running through.

"I like the idea, but not the green. Either white or maybe pink."

"All right."

Evan took the rings away again.

"Are you sure you really want a black band, Dad?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Evan was back again.

"Here's something a little different. The band is black, with a line of small princess cut diamonds. They do catch the light wonderfully and with the black band, they even have a slightly purple hue when the light hits them just right."

Levi looked at it and that was the one. He knew, with the diamonds and the tungsten band, it would be expensive, but even if Tamara had said not to, he didn't care what the cost was. This was the ring he wanted.

"How much?" he asked.

"Eight hundred dollars. The diamonds add up to a carat."

"Dad, that's a lot of money."

"Yes, it is. I'll take it." He pulled out his wallet and handed over his credit card.

"Are you sure Mom will want that expensive of a ring?"

Levi smiled as he held out the credit card.

"Probably not, but she'll like it, and I won't tell her unless she asks."

"Do you know the ring size?" Evan asked.

"Yes. She'll need a 7."

"All right. We'll have to resize it, but that will be a simple job and should only take a day or two."

"Thank you."

Evan thanked them for their business and then Bri helped Levi back out to the car. He hadn't planned on this, but he was glad to have done it.

"I have the money, Bri," he said softly as he relaxed into the seat again.

"I don't doubt that. You never spent a lot on yourself."

"And I didn't have anyone else to spend it on."

That was a wide opening for a dig at him, and he knew it.

But Bri said nothing.

She just drove him home. Neither of them mentioned the impromptu stop to Tamara. Levi just took a nap, knowing that he had the time.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim was sitting outside NCIS, waiting. He had an ulterior motive. He did want to get home. It seemed like every moment was a new thing to think about with the prospect of being a father. He had calmed down in the week since finding out (and they'd got it confirmed), but he still couldn't stop thinking about it.

But as with Gibbs when he'd got engaged, Tim had discovered that his newfound joy made him want to spread that around and try to fix things that still were broken.

So he was waiting. Like with Gibbs, he didn't know how this would turn out, but he felt he needed to do it. In a way, this would be more difficult than Gibbs, but still worth attempting.

Then, the door opened and Tony came walking out.

"Hey, McGee," he said. "Thought you'd be home trying to smother Zahara with concern."

Tim smiled. "Not yet. Can I talk to you?"

Tony's brow furrowed a little.

"Sure. What?"

They started walking.

"Do you think you can ever stop feeling guilty?" Tim asked.

"What do I have to feel guilty for?" Tony asked in return.

"Nothing, but that's not stopped you before."

"Oh, come on."

"I'm serious, Tony," Tim said. "You have nothing to feel guilty for, at least not as it applies to me and I hate that you keep beating yourself up about it. It's why you can't forgive Levi, either."

"What?" Tony asked incredulously. He stopped in his tracks on the pier by the _U.S.S. Barry_. "What in the world does Carew have to do with what we're talking about?"

"Everything," Tim said. "You can't forgive yourself and what Levi was worse so if you don't deserve to be forgiven, he definitely doesn't. Until you can let go of the useless guilt you have, you can't soften toward anyone else."

"So you want me to forgive Carew, is that it?"

"No. I've told you before. I don't care how you feel about Levi. But I do care how you feel about yourself, Tony. And I want you to forgive yourself."

"For what?" Tony asked, staring hard out at the river.

Tim smiled. Even when they both knew exactly what they were talking about, Tony still didn't want to say it.

"For hitting me on the back when you didn't know that I had shrapnel in my back. And maybe you don't know it, but _I_ know that you would never have done that if you had known."

"No, you _don't_ know that, Tim," Tony said. "You _can't_ know that because I was mad at you. I was blaming you for what had happened and I was furious that you didn't seem to care about what we'd gone through for you. And I was glad you hurt, Tim. I was _glad_. You can't know."

"Yes, I can, Tony. Because I know who _you_ are, and while you might be pretty cruel with your words when you want to be, you don't physically attack people when you're mad." Tim grabbed Tony's arm. "You would _not_ have hit me if you had known."

"Even if you're right, I still hurt you," Tony said. "You saved our lives and I hurt you."

"You did," Tim said. "But I understood. I knew where it was coming from. You were hurting and you lashed out at the only person you could. I was there. And I didn't seem to be hurt. You couldn't know how I felt right then. Even if you knew, you couldn't have cared about me. You just couldn't."

"I should have."

Tim laughed. "No. In a perfect world, yeah, you should have, but this isn't a perfect world, Tony. It's messy and painful...and wonderful. Tony, I'm happy. I'm married to a wonderful woman and in a few months I'm going to be a father. I have everything I wanted to have when I was younger. I have extra stuff that I don't like, but I'm still happy. And I hate that people I care about aren't. And if I'm contributing to that in any way, I want to stop it."

"You're not."

"Yeah, I am. Because I can see it in your eyes. It's like you suddenly remember what you did and you walk on eggshells for a while. Then, things go back to normal and you stop it. And then it happens again and again. And it's me that's triggering it, Tony. We both know it. And if you would just stop blaming yourself for my pain, it would be better for everyone."

"Even Carew?" Tony asked, sarcastically.

"No," Tim said, rolling his eyes. "Quite frankly, Tony, I'd bet quite a bit of money that Levi doesn't care what you think of him. Not even a little bit. I only care how you feel about Levi for your sake, not for his. If I thought you'd might go after him, I'd worry, but I know you wouldn't."

"You're giving me way too much credit, McGee."

"No, I'm not," Tim said, and he grinned. "I think you're being unreasonable in how you talk about Levi. I think you're taking way too much on yourself when it comes to what I've gone through. You've helped way more than hindered. And sometimes, when you get so solicitous of me, I want to smack you. I'm giving you the credit you deserve."

Tony sighed and walked away from him.

"Except that you keep letting me off for what I really did do, something you can't make go away."

Tony sat down on a bench, facing the river.

"What?" Tim asked. He walked over and sat down by Tony.

Tony turned to Tim and touched the skin over the metal plate in his cheek.

"You can't make the reason you have this go away." Then, he pointed to Tim's eye. "Or this. Or your feet that sometimes hurt you a little bit. Or the scars. You can't make that go away, Tim."

"You didn't do any of this, Tony. Jubran did most of it, and he's dead."

"They wouldn't have known who you were if I hadn't told them. They couldn't have done all that to you if they didn't know who you are. ...which they did...because _I_ told them."

Tim nodded. "I know. Just like the CIA wouldn't have found me if Gibbs hadn't made me hack their servers. I get it, Tony. But guess what, I don't have to blame you. And if I don't, then, you have no right to blame yourself."

"I don't?" Tony asked, sounding a little irritated.

"No! Because I'm the one who was hurt by it, right?"

Tony didn't say anything. Tim could have left it, but he wanted to get Tony to admit it.

"Right, Tony? I mean, they're my scars."

"Yeah," Tony said, a little reluctantly.

"So if I'm the one who was hurt and I don't want there to be any blame spread around, then, the best thing you can do is to stop blaming yourself. Right?"

"It's not that simple," Tony said. He stood up and took a few steps away.

But Tim wasn't ready to let this go yet.

"Yes, it is that simple, Tony. It's not that _easy_ , but it is that simple. If this is really about me, then, what I want is for you to stop hurting yourself for my sake because it's not helping me."

"Maybe it's not about you," Tony said, softly.

"No maybe about it," Tim said, gently without censure. "It's _not_ about me, and it hasn't been for a long time. Tony, this has become something that you seem to hold onto without even thinking about it, and you shouldn't. I know about useless guilt. I still struggle with it, sometimes, but it doesn't rule me anymore. That's what I want for you, Tony. I want you to stop using me as a whip for your self-flagellation."

Tony raised an eyebrow at him.

"You start writing again?"

"Nope. No time," Tim said, easily. "But I could because I have a life that allows for the possibility. Tony, I'm happy. Please, stop beating yourself down because my life isn't perfect. You said it yourself. I can't have a perfect life and I have to learn to live with the life I have. I've done that. So let it go. I don't expect it to happen all at once. I just want to you to try, to work on it."

"You finished?"

Tim could see that Tony was trying to avoid making any kind of commitment, but he didn't want to let that happen again.

"No, not if you're not going to say something about what I'm asking. You've avoided it before and this time, I want you to commit."

"You practicing to be a shrink yourself?" Tony asked.

"Nope. I've just got a good one and I learn. Will you at least try to let it go, to stop blaming yourself for _my_ hard knocks?"

Tony looked away from him for a few seconds. Tim knew that Tony didn't want to say anything...which was why Tim was pushing for it this time.

Finally, Tony sighed.

"I'm not making any promises, but I'll work on it."

"Thanks. That's all I wanted."

Tony turned back to him.

"Why do this now?"

Tim smiled. "Because I'm going to be a father."

"Huh?"

"I'm happier now than I was before. And the happier I am, the more obvious other people's problems are. I just want people to have the same chance I do."

Tony rolled his eyes a little but then, he walked over and slung his arm around Tim's shoulders. They started toward the parking lot.

"Sharing the wealth, huh?" he asked.

"I'm trying to," Tim said.

"You have enough wealth to do that?"

"Yep. The nice thing about happiness is you don't run out...and it doesn't obey the law of conservation of energy. You _can_ create happiness."

Tony groaned. "Oh man, McGee. Will you ever learn to to stop with the lame science linkups?"

"Nope. I don't think so."

"Your poor child."

"Yep. He or she will be a genius," Tim said.

He slid out from under Tony's arm.

"You want to come over for dinner? It's been a while."

"Nah. I'll take a rain check. Maybe this weekend?"

"Sure. I'll tell Zahara."

Tim couldn't help smiling when he said her name. Then, he saw that Tony had noticed.

"You really are happy, aren't you, Tim."

"Yeah, I am."

"I'm glad."

"Me, too."

Then, Tony headed off to his car and Tim went home, satisfied that he'd done _some_ good, even if it wasn't necessarily everything he'd wanted.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tamara was checking her shopping list when Bri came and sat down beside her.

"Hey, honey," she said, not looking up. "Do you need something?"

"I think it's time I get back to New York," Bri said.

Tamara looked up. "You're probably right. It's probably overdue, but I've been glad to have you here."

"Will you be okay?"

"Yes. I think your father will be all right alone when it's necessary. He's getting better all the time."

"Okay."

Bri got up and started to walk away.

"Brianna."

She stopped.

"I don't know when yet. We want to wait until your father is in better shape, but will you come to the wedding? It's going to be small. Just a few people, but we want you there."

Bri looked at the ring Tamara was now wearing.

"Both of you?"

"Yes," Tamara said firmly. "And I'm not just saying that. Your father wants you there."

"Are you sure of that?"

"Yes."

"Do you like the ring?"

"Yes, I love it. I'm sure it cost more than I wanted him to spend, but it's beautiful. Unexpected, just like he is."

Bri turned back, but her expression unreadable.

"I'll be there."

"Thank you."

Bri nodded and walked away.

Tamara went back to her list, but she smiled to herself. It was happening. It was slow and would likely take a long time, but it was happening. She was getting her family back.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

Tim woke up early as he had many mornings in the weeks since he found out that Zahara was pregnant. He rolled over and watched his wife sleep. She was starting to show, now, and she'd had the morning sickness that was so typical in the early part of pregnancy. Thankfully, that had passed and she was feeling much better now. Ducky had recommended an OBGYN that he knew and she had been great. Zahara had been relieved to have a female doctor. The idea of being examined by a male was very disconcerting to her. The spare room was now becoming a nursery and they had discussed finding a larger place. So far, it hadn't turned into anything serious. The one problem with the pregnancy was that it put off any trips into a more nebulous future. They didn't want to fly with a baby too soon and as the due date got closer, Zahara didn't want to be traveling in case she went into labor early. It was requiring some adjustments, but they were managing.

For now, Tim smiled. Would he stop worrying? Well, he hadn't yet and when little Salma was born... Tim smiled as he thought of the name Zahara had chosen. It was her mother's name. Salma Ann. Tim had considered using his mother's name for the middle name, but Naomi had agreed that her name didn't go very well with Salma. In the end, she had offered her own middle name and Zahara had loved the idea. So she was Salma Ann. Sam had been quick to point out that her initials would be perfect: S. A. M.

When Salma was born, Tim knew he would worry even more, but he didn't care. He was still so happy about it.

The other thing he was happy about was the headboard. He'd finished it only the previous week and it was now attached to their bedframe. Zahara had loved the herringbone pattern. Tim was glad. The spacing of each board had taken him forever, and a couple of times, he had been afraid that he'd mess something up and never get it done right. The stained boards had worked perfectly. The blue stain was not as bright as blue paint would have been, but the contrast with the other colors was perfect. He could honestly say that this had turned out exactly as he had pictured it in his head. Zahara had said it was too much work, that he hadn't needed to do it, but he knew that. You didn't make a gift because you _had_ to. You did it because you wanted to. He looked at Zahara again as she slept. Yes. She was worth anything.

After a few more minutes of enjoying the time he had to just watch Zahara sleep, he resisted the urge to see if he could feel Salma inside her mother. He didn't want to wake Zahara up. Instead, he slid quietly out of bed and headed out for his morning run.

He went to his usual route and took his time. He was up early. It wasn't a long route. He had plenty of time. His guards would be relieved that he wasn't doing too much running today.

However, as he came back to his car, he smiled when he saw a familiar figure sitting on a bench. It was the first time in a few months that he'd seen Levi. He gladly slowed down. Then, he walked to his car and got a bottle of water for himself and for Jethro. He walked back to the bench and sat down.

"Been a while, Levi," he said.

"Yes, it has."

"You're looking a lot better."

Levi laughed a little. "Only because you saw me when I was almost dead. People keep telling that I'm old."

"Well, aren't you?"

Another laugh. "I certainly feel old right now."

Tim laughed, too.

"Well, you managed to spill the beans about the fact that I've been talking to you like this."

"Did I? When?" Levi asked.

"When we found you. You asked if the reason I'd been looking was because I missed our chats."

"Oh." Levi was silent for a few seconds. "I don't remember saying that."

"You weren't in a good state at the time. I don't blame you, but my team wasn't too happy about it."

"They wouldn't be the first to want me far away. These chats aren't necessary."

"No," Tim said, firmly. "I'm an adult and if I want to talk to someone, it's my choice, not theirs. I've already told them that and they've...mostly accepted it."

"Mostly?" Levi asked.

"Well, they're kind of unreasonable."

"I don't know about that. Seems that their reaction is quite reasonable."

Tim shook his head. "No, it's not, especially since I don't agree with them. Since I don't, they need to respect my choice and they are doing that, at least."

"I didn't know you enjoyed this time we have together so much, Agent McGee."

Tim laughed. "I'm just weird that way, but seriously, how are you doing?"

Levi nodded.

"Better than I was. I can walk a block without getting winded, but more than that and I'm still getting tired. My doctor says that the torture wore out my heart and how far back I get will depend on too many factors to predict. But I'm alive...and so is Tamara." He took a deep breath and leaned forward. "And most of the time, I can remember that."

"You've had problems with that?" Tim asked.

"Yes. It's only been in the last few weeks that I've been able to be alone and not be afraid that she's dead. I was so sure. I only wanted to die so that I didn't have live knowing that she was dead."

Tim could see how bad it had been and he reached out and touched Levi on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry it was that bad."

Levi looked over at his hand and then sat up.

"And now, I have a question for you, Agent McGee."

"What's that?"

"Why did you save me?" Levi asked.

He was so earnest that Tim was surprised. Even in the last couple of years, there was a restrained feeling about everything that Levi had said and done. More open than he'd been, but still very much restrained. This wasn't. This was quiet and simply said but still it seemed almost over the top given how little Levi typically let out.

There was no mask. Not at all. Tim was seeing exactly what Levi was feeling and there was some distress in his expression.

"Someone had to," Tim said, not sure where he was going with it.

"No," Levi said. "No, Agent McGee, someone _didn't_ have to. The intention had been to have no one even know I was missing because I have so few people who care about my life or death that they had destroyed the one person who would care...at least, that's what I thought and what they thought, too. No one had to save me and most people would be glad I was dead. That list of people is very long and you _should_ be on it, but you're not. Why did you save me?"

"I shouldn't be on it."

"Yes, you should. No matter my reasons, I used you and I did it very ruthlessly. I have done that for much of my professional life. It started with destroying my family because I felt I was keeping them safe and that mattered more than happiness. And I didn't keep them safe. But once I'd been willing to do that much, I was willing to do pretty much anything else as long as I felt it fit with my ultimate goals. I used you and did it in a way that I knew you wouldn't resist. You said yourself that you couldn't forgive me for that. So I'll ask again, why would you save me? I know what it would have taken for you to find me, to figure out who did it, to get a location. You had to step into that gray area you say you hate, and you did it for me."

Tim looked down at his hands. How in the world had Levi remembered the one time he'd mentioned it all those years ago?

"Yes, I did. I called in a lot of people who probably shouldn't have been doing it, but they all did it because I asked them."

"Why?"

Tim looked up at him again.

"Because I had to."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did. For a lot of reasons, but I had to. Once Tamara came to me and asked me for help, I couldn't have said no, no matter my own personal feelings. They tried to kill her and whatever you might be, she's innocent and anyone willing to do that should be stopped."

"That's not enough for _you_ to be doing it, though. If that were all, you would have turned it over to the FBI and let them have at it."

"I don't know. I don't have good feelings toward the FBI," Tim said.

Levi smiled. "Can't say that I do, either."

"Yeah."

"That's not enough," Levi said.

"Can I ask why you're asking? Isn't it enough that I did it?"

"No, it's not," Levi said, solemn again. "It's far from enough. I _need_ to know why."

"Why?" Tim asked in return. "I'm not going to take it back, even if I could."

"Just answer the question, Agent McGee. You know what the real answer is and I need to know it."

Tim sighed. He understood that need, but he still wasn't quite comfortable with sharing something deep with Levi. It was like he'd said to Abby. They weren't really friends. Tim still wasn't sure how much he liked him, but he do anything he could to help if it was possible.

"Okay. Everyone else disagrees, so you might, too, but I did it because I owe you something I can't repay, no matter what else you've done to me."

For the first time, Tim _knew_ that he'd surprised Levi. It was almost a heady feeling to know that he'd managed to take him by surprise when he seemed to know everything already.

"What in the world could you owe _me_ for?"

"I owe you something that can't be repaid. You saved my soul."

For a moment, Levi actually looked touched, but then, he smiled a little.

"That's seems melodramatic."

"It might be, but it's true. It took me a while to realize how close I came to losing everything that makes me...who I am, but I was right there, on the brink and you stopped me. I wasn't happy about it at the time, but I was broken and didn't realize it. I couldn't have healed from that."

And he saw in Levi's eyes that he knew exactly what Tim was talking about.

"I already had planned on killing her. It wasn't necessary for you."

"But there was no reason, not even following your vaunted three priorities. The country wasn't in danger. Bri, as your agent, wasn't in danger. The CIA reputation wasn't in danger because no one would know. The person who would have been destroyed was me. You had no reason to stop me except that you knew I couldn't have recovered from it. If I had done it, if I had killed my handler, I could never have been myself again. I probably couldn't have survived it. I've never killed someone because I wanted to. Death has always been something to be avoided if possible and it's something to regret if it can't be. I _wanted_ her dead. I wanted to do it myself. I had a hard time just recovering from knowing that about myself. If I had actually done it? ...you saved my soul, not my life. And it's melodramatic, I admit, but there's no other way to explain how important it was that I didn't kill her."

Levi nodded.

"You're right. It didn't fit into my priorities. And since it didn't, I could do what I wanted to do."

"You're saying that you _wanted_ to save me?"

"Yes. By that time, I could think about something outside of what I knew had to be done. You had broken, even before that moment. You broke when you stopped resisting making that program. I've seen it before. Some people don't break all at once. It happens so gradually that the final shattering isn't even apparent." Levi looked away from Tim. "The shock is greater when you break in a moment, but it's almost worse when that first fatal crack forms and then it just spreads and spreads. That's what happened to you, Agent McGee. I saw it in your eyes. And I'm not going to pretend that I was really thinking about how I could make sure you were safe. I didn't. But I would have left you behind. Since you insisted on going, I worked with what I had. And I had a moment to think when we were headed to the takedown." He actually laughed. "I still can't believe that you were able to walk after I dumped you out of the wheelchair. I really thought that was foolproof."

"If I'd been thinking clearly, it would have been."

"Yes. But what I want you to understand is that there wasn't some elaborate plan in place to protect you. In the moment, I could and so I did. If it hadn't feasible, I wouldn't have done it and I wouldn't have thought about it later. So perhaps I did, as you put it, save your soul, but it wasn't because I had that plan all along."

Tim smiled. "You say that like it matters. It doesn't. Levi, the very fact that, in a matter of a few seconds, you could look at me and decide that I didn't need to commit murder and casually stop me from destroying myself... that's as good as a plan to save me all along. And I'll admit, the better situation would be that you didn't put me in that position at all, but you kept me from going too far. You weren't wanting me to kill my handler. I was the one who put myself in that situation and you stopped it. So you've said that you owe me, but I owe you, too. Once I knew what could be happening to you, I had to do what I could to save you, if it was possible."

"You were almost too late. I was almost dead."

"I know. I'm glad we got there in time."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, I'm positive."

Levi just nodded and leaned forward again. Tim was about to ask if that was it, but then, he had a thought.

"Did you know that Jorgenson is dead?"

Levi sat up quickly and looked at him.

"No. Was he at the house when you came?"

"No. He came later and we arrested him. During the transfer to D.C., someone shot him. We've never been able to figure out who did it, but whoever it was sent a video to NCIS, claiming that they'd done it to protect me."

"Really. To protect you."

"Yes. Any ideas?"

"Plenty of ideas, but no certainty."

"Like what?"

"The FBI because he was too much of an embarrassment. The CIA because he was interfering with their jobs too much. But I can't imagine either of those scenarios leading to someone claiming to be protecting you. If they got away, then, it would just remain silent."

"You don't think it could have been the NSA?"

"Maybe, but not under Gellman. He's more principled than most. I'm pretty sure that would go beyond what he would allow. And then, there's you. No, Agent McGee, I think it's much more likely that there's someone out there who has decided you're worth protecting. I'm sure you don't like that."

"No, I don't."

"Well, unless you know who it is, I don't think you'll be able to do anything about it."

"I know."

"Good. It's always better to acknowledge when there's nothing you can do."

"Yeah."

Levi nodded. There was another silence and Tim felt that it was probably time to get home. Even Jethro was getting a little antsy.

"One last thing, Agent McGee."

"Yes?"

"As _you_ said before, no obligation."

Tim's brow furrowed as Levi handed him an envelope. He opened it and pulled out a single card. He looked for a moment and then realized what it was. He smiled.

"You're getting married. Again."

"Yes."

"I'm really happy for you."

Levi looked at him. "Are you?"

"Yes. Levi, I want you to be able to work things out. And it looks like you are. How did you manage it?"

He smiled and then grimaced. "I broke. And it was so complete that it broke everything. Including the mask. I couldn't put it back on for a long time and Dr. Hicks said I shouldn't even try because eventually it would be easy again. So I haven't. It's hard, but I'm doing it. And so we're getting married, but we had to wait until I could handle it. As I said, no obligation that you come, but you'd be welcome."

Levi pushed himself to his feet and Tim could see the physical strain he obviously still felt. Tim stood as well.

"Levi."

He turned to look at Tim.

"Yes?"

"Zahara's pregnant. We're going to have a baby, but if that hasn't happened or if it's already happened and things are going okay, we'll be there."

Levi smiled and it might have been the first real smile Tim had ever seen. And Levi's black eyes twinkled. It transformed his whole face, made him seem open and welcoming. The black eyes no longer seemed evil or frightening. They were just his eyes.

"Congratulations. Tim."

"Thanks, Levi."

Then, Levi turned and walked to his car. Tim watched him go and he realized that except for the brief period in Yemen when they had used each other's first names as a limited form of security, Levi had never used his given name, not once. And Tim knew why. It was because Tim had not wanted him to. And that had changed. In a moment, it had been changed.

Tim smiled and then looked down at Jethro.

"Well, I'm probably going to be late today, Jethro, but I don't even care. Let's go home."

Tim drove home as quickly as he could and went inside. As soon as he opened the door, he knew Zahara was feeling good today.

He could see the batter for the baghrir pancakes on the counter. He started into the bedroom when the door opened and Zahara came out.

"Tim, you were so long, I was starting to worry," she said.

"Levi was there. I was talking to him."

"How is he?"

"He's doing better."

Then, Tim held out the card.

"We're invited to his wedding."

Zahara snatched the card from him and looked at it.

"It will be close," she said.

"I know. I warned him that it might not work out, but that we'd be there if we could."

Zahara put her arms around him and kissed him soundly.

"I always like being kissed by you, but what's the occasion?" Tim asked.

"I am...happy," she said. "I am happy for Levi. And I am happy for you. And I am happy for me."

Tim kissed her back.

"I'm happy for all those things, too. I love you."

"And I love you...but you smell. Go and shower while I make breakfast."

Tim grinned.

"Okay, but it's good, clean sweat."

"No, it is dirty, nasty sweat."

Tim just laughed and went to shower. When he finished, he got dressed and then pulled out the khamsa that Ahmed had given him and put it on.

Whether it protected him from evil or was just a lovely family heirloom, Tim was glad to have it.

As he had so many times, he thought about his life, about how much it had changed in the last ten years, and yet, how wonderful it had become.

"Tim, if you don't eat now, you will be late!"

"It would be worth it," he called back.

And hurried to the kitchen to eat breakfast with his wife, knowing that the life he had was the life he'd always wanted, just in a form he could never have guessed.

FINIS!


End file.
